Practical Applications of the Scientific Method
by J9nine
Summary: Craig liked to think of this as his own little experiment. Objective: Find out if Kenny McCormick is seducible. Prediction: Craig makes an ass of himself. Prequel to When You Have Everything to Lose, but works as a stand-alone fic. Cross-posted.
1. Observation

Heeeeeey. Long time, no fic. Yeah, sorry about that. If you want an explanation, there's a half-assed one on my profile.

Anyways, this story is a prequel to When You Have Everything to Lose, but don't sweat it if you haven't read that one, because this story works as a stand-alone, and the two stories can be read in either order. I _may_ bump up the rating on this story later on. I'd say, expect this story to be a little racier than WYHETL.

 **Practical Applications of the Scientific Method**

 **Chapter 1: Observation**

"Bebe, Red, and…Wendy."

"No fair, Kenny. You can't say my girlfriend. Obviously I have to choose her or Cartman will tell her I didn't and she'll get pissed at me. Again."

Kenny leaned back on the sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "There are no rules in Marry-Dump-Fuck. Except that you have to answer."

"I'd fuck Wendy," Cartman offered helpfully.

Stan glared at him. "Shut up."

"I'd fuck Wendy," Cartman repeated. "Marry Red, dump Bebe."

Kenny shook his head. "Fuck Bebe, marry Red, dump Wendy. No offense, Stan."

"None…taken?"

Kyle emerged from the kitchen, a six pack in one hand and a bag of Doritos in the other. "Butters just texted me," he announced, dropping the beer and chips on the coffee table and gently nudging Kenny's shoes away. "School's back in tomorrow."

Kenny groaned, pulling his feet onto the couch. "There's still like two feet of snow out there! They can't give us one more day?"

"You just don't want to start that fruit fly experiment in biology," Cartman replied, plucking a can from the six pack.

"Use a coaster, Cartman. And shoes off the couch, Kenny."

Kenny rolled his eyes, kicking off his dirty sneakers. "It's too much work," he whined. "And I'm partnered with Craig. As if spending forty-five minutes a day counting fruit flies wasn't gonna make my life boring enough, I have to do it sitting across from Craig. Looking at his dumb boring face."

"I thought you got to choose your partner for this project," Stan said.

"We did," Kenny replied. "And Craig chose me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I was fully prepared to turn to Cartman and ask him if he wanted to be partners, when Craig appeared in front of me and said, 'Kenny, you're my partner.'"

"But _why_ would he want to work with _you_?"

"Thanks, Stan. I'm not a complete moron, you know."

"But you're lazy," Kyle pointed out. "I've never seen you do schoolwork. You copy Stan's English homework, like, every day."

"Not to mention, Craig's worked with Stoley on every biology project this year and they've gotten the tops grades on all of them," Cartman added. "You don't mess with a good thing. If you can get an Asian to do all your work for you, why the hell wouldn't you? As luck would have it, Kevin is now free to work with me, so…"

"That's racist, Cartman."

"What? I'm saying they're smart."

"I'm pretty sure it's still racist even if you spin it as positive, Cartman."

Stan rolled his eyes, turning to Kenny. "I'm gonna need my English assignment back before class tomorrow."

"Oh, right. I'm not done with it."

"We just had two snow days."

"I've been busy."

Cartman snorted. "Jesus Christ, Kenny, you're even too lazy to _copy Stan's homework_? Why the fuck would anyone want to do a project with you?"

Kyle smirked, cracking open a beer. "Hey, Ken. Cartman, Craig, and Kevin."

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Marry, dump, fuck."

"I…You can't list guys!"

"You're the one who said there are no rules," Stan pointed out. "Except that you have to answer."

"But _I don't fuck guys_."

"But if you had to."

"Why would I have to fuck a dude?"

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Why would you have to fuck anybody?"

"He's gotta pay for cigarettes somehow, Kahl."

"Fuck you, Cartman."

"So you'd fuck Cartman," Kyle said. "Now who would you marry?"

Kenny narrowed his eyes at the redhead. "Well what would you do?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Marry Kevin, fuck Craig, dump Cartman."

"Answered that one pretty quickly, Kahl. How long have you been thinking about this?"

"It's the obvious choice. Stoley's gonna be the most successful in the long run…"

"Why's that?"

"Because he's…" Kyle trailed off, his cheeks turning pink.

Cartman smirked. "Who's racist now?"

* * *

As an intensely hormonal and deeply closeted gay teenager, Craig simply could not afford for his gaydar to fail him. He could not afford to let the true nature of his sexuality slip, he could not afford to start crushing on a straight guy, and he could not afford to start popping boners in the middle of biology class, which was why choosing Kenny McCormick as a lab partner was his stupidest idea to date.

The thing was, Craig had somewhat of a gift when it came to picking out the homos; a gift that had always steered him straight—in a manner of speaking—in the past. Which only made Kenny's case all the more frustrating. Kenny had him stumped.

Kenny slept with girls. All of South Park knew that Kenny slept with girls, because if the rumors were true, Kenny slept with all of the girls in South Park. Older girls, younger girls, fat girls, skinny girls, he didn't discriminate. The only common denominator was that they were all female. He had a reputation and it was a decidedly straight one.

And yet.

When Kenny stroked his thumb along the vial of fruit flies, head down, glancing briefly at Craig across the table through a curtain of blond eyelashes, was he being suggestive or just absent-minded? When he moved behind Craig to watch him draw the diagram of the curly-winged male fruit fly, was he trying to get closer to Craig or just trying to get a better look at the drawing? When he plugged the end of a test tube of flies with a cotton ball and said, "Let's get to breeding," was he begging Craig to fuck him twelve different ways or was Craig simply projecting because Kenny was very, very, incredibly, painfully hot?

Admittedly, Craig had only chosen Kenny as his partner because he wanted an excuse to get the blond into his house. Into his bed, specifically, but only if Kenny was into it. Craig was more than willing to start small and work his way up if that was the endgame.

Not that he thought in a million years Kenny would be into it. Because Kenny was straight. And even if he wasn't 100% heterosexual, he was still way out of Craig's league. Kenny was just a fantasy. A blue-eyed, blond-haired fantasy with cheekbones sculpted by God himself, sitting across a lab table from Craig, nibbling on the eraser of his pencil in a way that just _had_ to be an attempt to draw Craig's attention to that perfect pink mouth.

So, yeah, Kenny was definitely straight and Craig was just kidding himself. He just liked to think of this as his own little experiment. Objective: Find out if Kenny McCormick is seducible. Prediction: Craig makes an ass of himself.

But honestly, even if this went absolutely nowhere, as Craig fully suspected it would, at least he could just _look_ at Kenny for an extra hour every day, because Kenny was damn nice to look at.

"I don't know why you picked me to be your partner."

"Huh?"

Kenny closed his notebook and slid it into his ratty backpack. "I'm not very smart. I don't know why you chose me."

Craig shrugged. "I mean, you're not _stupid_."

"But I'm not smart. I mean, I don't really even get this genetics stuff. You would have been better off with Stoley…"

"I don't know where you got the idea that Kevin is smart."

Kenny zipped his backpack shut. "Well you guys always get A's on your projects."

"And that couldn't be down to me?" Craig asked, gathering up their papers and stuffing them between the pages of his text book.

"Oh. Um. Well Stoley's, you know…"

"Asian?"

The bell rang, and Kenny looked relieved.

Craig sighed. "You have plans after school?" he asked, shoving his book into his backpack.

"Um. No." Kenny slung his bag over his shoulder. "Why?"

Craig glanced at the door, where Kevin was lingering, watching him curiously.

"Come over. I'll go over Punnett squares with you. You're gonna have to know how to do them for this project and I'm pretty sure you were asleep for most of that lecture."

Kenny frowned. "Mr. Sharman's shaky old man voice is very soothing to me. It reminds me of nursing homes. It just lulls me right to sleep."

"I'll meet you at your locker after school and we can walk together," Craig went on, ignoring Kenny's comment. "I don't have a car, but I live nearby."

"I know where you live."

If Craig's heart gave a little flutter at that statement, he'd just keep that to himself, because _gay_. "See you at three," he said, darting toward the door before Kenny had the chance to object.

Kevin shifted his backpack on his shoulders as Craig joined him in the hallway.

"I can't believe you ditched me for Kenny," Kevin said, as they pushed past the crowd to their lockers. "There goes my easy A. What kind of friend are you?"

"A shitty one," Craig replied with a shrug.

"Damn right, a shitty one. I'm stuck working with _Cartman_. And guess which fruit fly mutation we were assigned to study. The eyeless trait. Do you know how many racist ways there are to compare Asian people to eyeless fruit flies? Because _I do now_. And it's only the first day."

* * *

"So it turns out," Cartman greeted, breezing past Kyle into the Brovlofski's living room, "the only science Kevin Stoley knows shit about is science fiction. He must be such a disappointment to his parents."

"Come in, Cartman."

Cartman made himself comfortable on the sofa. "Where's Kenny?"

"Craig's," Kyle replied, flipping open his Spanish book.

Cartman frowned. "Why?"

"They're working on that fruit fly thing," Kyle said, waving his pen dismissively.

"Working on what? We just started the project. There's not even any take-home work yet."

"Well, apparently Kenny needs extra help because he doesn't know his way around a Punnett square."

"So I guess I'm the third wheel today. Where's your heterosexual life partner?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Stan's in the kitchen, fighting with Wendy about something."

Cartman sat up a bit straighter. "Wendy's here too?"

"No. He's on the phone with her."

"Shitty. Would have enjoyed hearing both ends of the argument. Wendy's side is always more fun to listen to than Stan's anyway. That girl has a way of finding the words that will cut the deepest, you know?"

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Yes. I, too, get off on my friend's pain."

"Is it just me, or are those two fighting _a lot_ lately."

"It's not just you," Kyle replied, tearing open a bag of Funyuns.

"I give them until New Year's."

"Fair enough. But they break up all the time. They'll be back together by Valentine's Day."

Cartman shook his head. "Not this time. Have you seen them around each other lately? It's like they don't even like each other anymore."

"It's a rut. They'll get past it. They always do."

Cartman bit into a Funyun. "Care to wager on that?"

"The usual?"

"The usual."

Cartman stuck out his chubby hand, and Kyle shook it firmly. "You have yourself a bet."

* * *

"This is the ugliest rat I've ever seen."

"He's a guinea pig and he's adorable," Craig replied, emerging from the kitchen with two Cokes and a bag of baby carrots.

Kenny was spread out on the living room floor, chin resting on his hands as he watched rodent scuffle across the carpet, squeaking curiously.

"I don't eat carrots," Kenny said, accepting the Coke Craig offered him.

"They're for Stripe," Craig replied, kneeling down next to the guinea pig and tearing open the bag.

Stripe scuffled over to Craig's knee and began chirping excitedly, which, okay, _was_ slightly adorable, not that Kenny would ever admit it. And he would definitely never admit that Craig was even a little adorable making kissy faces at the ugly little rat as he fed it a carrot.

No, it wasn't that Craig was cute, Kenny decided. He was just…endearing. Because this was _Craig_ , and he was usually so stoic that any display of emotion, even when it was being directed at a hairy little rodent, was a surprise. And endearing surprise. If it wasn't so out of the ordinary, Kenny wouldn't have even noticed how affectionate Craig was being toward the little bastard.

"Sorry," Craig apologized, stroking the guinea pig's head. "He needs a lot of attention. Guinea pigs are social animals. I had two, but Spot died, and Stripe has been pretty lonely ever since. He hasn't been doing so well. They do better in pairs, and he's old. They don't usually live this long, and I just realized I'm talking about my guinea pig _a lot_ and you probably think I'm weird."

"Nah, it's cool," Kenny said, pushing himself up off the floor. "Who hasn't gotten a guinea pig lesson from a crazy rodent guy?"

Craig smiled sheepishly. "He, uh… I usually leave him out of his pen while I'm home, so just don't step on him, okay?"

"Sure. Whatever. We should probably get to work on these, um, pennett squares or whatever you call them."

"Jesus Christ." Craig nudged Stripe off of his knee. "You run along now. Kenny needs more help than I thought."

"He said to his _rat_ ," Kenny replied, although, secretly, Craig was getting more endearing by the minute.

Kenny cracked open his Coke and took a long draw. He needed to stop overthinking, stop _noticing_ Craig and start focusing on biology. That was the only reason he was here. He wasn't friends with Craig. He didn't like Craig. Hell, he didn't even _dislike_ Craig. He was completely indifferent towards Craig, and that was how it would stay for the next two weeks, while he suffered through this painfully boring biology project with his painfully boring lab partner. He swallowed, the carbonation stinging his throat as it slid down. He blinked back tears, and he admitted to himself that chugging half a can of Coke was probably a stupid distraction.

When he looked back at Craig, he saw that his lab partner was no longer focused on his guinea pig, but on Kenny. More specifically, Kenny's mouth.

Kenny coughed, embarrassed for some reason. "Not used to the bubbles. Soda's always flat at my house," he explained, not entirely sure _why_ he felt he owed Craig an explanation as to why he couldn't handle a soft drink.

Craig's eyes shot up to meet Kenny's and his cheeks turned pink. Which, yeah, was _weird_. He cracked open his own Coke and took a swig, and Kenny couldn't help but notice the way Craig's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Craig had a _long_ neck. The kind with prominent veins and a deep hollow spot just above his collar bone. Now it was Kenny's turn to blush, because fuck if he didn't have a weakness for long necks. A fetish, even.

Craig set his Coke can on the floor, looking up to meet Kenny's eyes once more. "So," he said, licking his lips. "Shall we?"

And that was the moment Kenny knew, without a doubt, that he was undeniably _fucked_.


	2. Questioning

Good god, this chapter was _rough_ to write. I'm trying my best to give this story the same tone as When You Have Everything to Lose, but since this story is going to take place over the course of two months and WYHETL took place in the span of about two weeks, the pacing is turning out to be much different. This chapter especially, since it's a big development chapter. So there's a lot less dialogue, and a lot less laughs, which is what I really like to write, but this chapter is really more about moving the story forward. So without further ado, chapter 2.

 **Practical Applications of the Scientific Method**

 **Chapter 2: Questioning**

"Craig."

Kenny had heard somewhere that the average person's favorite word was their own name. That hearing it raised the serotonin levels in their brains and made them feel happy. He didn't know if it was true, but he figured if it was, Craig might start to associate that feeling of happiness with him if he said his name enough.

He still wasn't sure how to categorize his feelings for Craig. Every time he'd felt this way in the past, he'd called it a crush. But every time he'd felt this way in the past, it had been a girl on the receiving end. Kenny wasn't _gay_. He wasn't sure what he was. Bi, maybe. That could be a thing. He'd never thought of himself that way before, but maybe that was just because the world had always told him he was supposed to like girls and he'd accepted that. But this thing with Craig threw him for a loop.

The past week working with Craig had been eye-opening. Craig was not what Kenny'd thought he was. Sure, he was hard on the outside, but he was tender on the inside. And, yeah, his face was usually stoic, but he had a _great_ smile, braces and all. And when Kenny talked, Craig listened, his steely gray eyes focused and intent.

He hadn't decided what it meant yet, that he was noticing all of these things. The one thing he knew for certain is that he really, _really_ wanted Craig to like him.

Which is why he had been focusing all of his energy on _making_ Craig like him. Kenny was using all of his usual tricks. He laughed at all of Craig's jokes, which, granted, were few and far between, although actually pretty funny in a surprising way. He'd been wearing his drug-store cologne, which admittedly was probably not made for picking up guys, but it made girls go nuts, so he figured it was worth a try. He'd been making what he hoped was just the right amount of eye contact, which was actually pretty hard to do, because Craig's eyes were _intense_ —any time he looked at them, Kenny felt like Craig could somehow hear all of his most intimate thoughts. And most importantly, Kenny had been saying Craig's name _a lot_.

"What's going on?" Craig asked, not looking up from the rag he was soaking in ether.

"I don't really understand, um, gender."

Craig unplugged their jar of fruit flies and replaced the cork with the ether-soaked rag, staring intently at the jar as the flies started to drop one by one.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Um. Gendered traits. How they get passed down. Maybe we could go over that after school?"

"Sure," Craig replied, dumping the unconscious fruit flies onto the table.

"Thanks, Craig."

"We should sort these suckers before they wake up," Craig said, picking up two wooden-handled dissecting needles from the table and handing one to Kenny.

"Thanks, Craig," Kenny said, brushing his hand against Craig's as he accepted the needle.

Craig looked up. "Kenny," he said, and suddenly Kenny understood that thing about people's names being their favorite word.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" Kenny asked. He pointed down at the table with his dissecting needle. "I was just about to start sorting these fruit flies into male and female piles."

"You keep saying my name. You've been doing it all week."

Kenny's eyes widened, and he immediately turned his focus to the table, pushing the unconscious fruit flies around with his stick. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

Okay, so maybe his plan was backfiring and making him look like a crazy person. Of course saying Craig's name over and over wasn't gonna make him like Kenny. And his drug store cologne probably smelled cheap.

Craig frowned. "Maybe I'm just imagining it."

The problem was, with a girl, at some point Kenny would stop playing games and just ask her out. But he couldn't do that with Craig. Craig wasn't a girl. Craig probably fucked girls.

Kenny sighed, running his free hand through his hair.

Craig dropped his dissecting needle.

* * *

"You'll never guess what," Wendy said, sliding between Stan and Kyle at their lunch table. Kyle scooted over, making room for her.

"You've decided to go full lezzy?" Cartman guessed, spinning his fork in his pile of spaghetti. "Let's face it, you've got to like pussy if you're dating Stan. He's just a gateway to girls."

"Says the only one at this table with _tits_ ," Kenny remarked. "No offense, Wendy."

Wendy scowled. "None taken."

Stan wrapped an arm around his girlfriend's waist. "So what's up, Wends?"

Wendy perked up, remembering her big news.

"My parents are going to Denver this weekend to pick up my grandparents from the airport, and they decided to make a whole weekend of it. Which means I'll get the house to myself the first weekend of winter break."

She looked at Stan, expecting a smile or a kiss or _any type of reaction_ , but he just stared at her. She rolled her eyes. Why were guys so clueless? She looked around the table for reactions. Kyle offered her a sympathetic smile, Cartman was going to work at his spaghetti, and Kenny—whom she would normally expect to be the first to come back with a crude or suggestive remark—was distracted by something, or, more likely, _someone_ across the cafeteria.

"Which means you can spend the night, Stan," Wendy explained.

"Oh," Stan replied. "Okay. Cool."

Wendy raised an eyebrow. "Okay, cool?"

Stan blinked. "What? Did I say the wrong thing?"

"If you don't want to come over, then don't," Wendy grumbled, detangling herself from Stan's arm.

"I said okay!" Stan threw his hands up in defeat. "What, was I not enthusiastic enough?"

"So what I'm hearing," Cartman said, slurping back a bite of spaghetti, "is party at Wendy's this weekend. Am I right?"

Kyle glared at Cartman across the table. "I think Wendy and Stan would rather be alone together," he remarked. "Right, Stan?"

Wendy looked at Stan, who looked thoughtful. "I don't know. A party could be fun."

Wendy shook her head. "Unbelievable," she mumbled, standing up.

Maybe she'd just have a girls' night with Bebe instead.

"So that's yes to a party?" she heard Cartman say as she walked away.

* * *

 _Party at wendys fri night_ , Craig's phone screen read.

Kenny texting him had become a thing lately, which had been nerve-wracking at first. Craig wasn't much of a texter to begin with—he didn't like attempting to have conversations where he couldn't properly gauge the other person's reaction. The only person who usually texted him was Clyde, and Craig stopped bothering to reply to those when he found out the hard way that Clyde could not pick up on sarcasm through text. So when he started getting texts from someone who's opinion of him he actually gave a fuck about, it presented a whole new challenge. With Kenny, Craig didn't want to seem boring, or too flirty, or like he was over-thinking every word he typed. Which he most definitely had been at first. He couldn't just ignore the texts, because Kenny would think he didn't like him, but he couldn't reply too quickly either, because Kenny might think he liked him just a little _too_ much.

But it had been just over a week since they'd started their project together, and the texting was coming more naturally to him now. He was getting used to the early morning texts about the weird dreams Kenny had, the lunchtime texts about whatever offensive bullshit Cartman was spewing, and the late-night texts about whatever was on Kenny's mind. He was getting used to _Kenny_ —the way Kenny talked, and the way he thought about things, and the things he cared about. It was the last thing Craig had expected when he'd chosen Kenny to work on this project. He and Kenny had actually become friends.

Kenny was funny and perverted, passionate and sympathetic, crazy and unpredictable. And Craig _liked_ him. Not just his hair and body and impossible cheekbones. He liked _Kenny_. In ways that made his stomach turn. And every time Kenny said his name or laughed at one of his jokes, it only reminded Craig that friends was all they would ever be.

"Earth to Craig."

Craig's eyes snapped up from his phone to find his friends staring at him, wearing expressions that ranged from judgmental (Token) to concern (Clyde). "Um. What?"

"You've been staring at your phone for like ten minutes," Kevin informed him.

"We thought you'd gone catatonic!" Tweek added.

Craig shrugged, trying to look impassive as he always did. "Wendy's having a party on Friday," he informed them in his usual monotone.

"This Friday?" Token asked, showing interest for the first time in this conversation.

Clyde frowned. "Bebe didn't tell me that. Bebe usually tells me everything."

"Bebe usually tells _everyone_ everything," Token replied, rolling his eyes. "So, we're going, right?"

"I don't know," Tweek said, twitching. "You know I don't do well in crowds."

Kevin rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Tweek. You always say that and you always tag along anyways, and you _always_ get plastered."

"Well I have to. To deal with the crowd."

"So what about you, Craig?" Clyde asked, elbowing his friend in the side. "You gonna come out and have fun with us for a change?"

Craig's phone buzzed again, and the screen lit up with another message from Kenny. _You should come_.

Craig gazed across the cafeteria, where he found Kenny staring back. The blond gave him a small wave before turning his attention back to his friends.

"Yeah," Craig said, not tearing his eyes off Kenny. "Count me in."

* * *

"I'm so glad this fucking project is over," Cartman muttered. "I can't believe I thought _you_ were gonna carry us, and you turned out to be no smarter than I am."

Kevin resented that remark, but found it best not to try and argue. "Believe me, fatass," he replied, "no one is happier to be done with this lab than I am."

It was the final day of the big biology lab, and Kevin couldn't be more relieved. He still blamed Craig for his getting stuck with Cartman. The last two weeks had been torture for Kevin. When Cartman wasn't ragging on him for being "a disappointment to his people," he was making fun of his eye shape or implying that he had a tiny penis. Which, frankly, was _nobody's_ business, and even if it _was_ small (which Kevin would neither confirm nor deny) it was still perfectly capable of getting the job done, thank you very much.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. Just one more day. They just had to get through the report, and then it would be winter break. And then this assignment, the stench of ether, and the daily dread of hearing Eric Cartman's smug drawl, would be distant memories.

One of the knocked-out fruit flies on the table began wriggling back to life, and Cartman promptly squashed it with the pad of his thumb. Kevin shuddered in disgust.

The worst part was, Craig actually seemed to be _enjoying_ himself. Some fucking friend. Here Kevin was, one racist joke away from knocking _himself_ out with ether, and Craig had the nerve to enjoy himself.

"Is it weird that I'm kind of sad this project is over?" he heard Kenny lament, and Kevin rolled his eyes.

"It's not completely over," Craig replied. "We still have the report to do."

Kenny perked up. "That's right. Your house after school?"

"Disgusting, isn't it?"

Kevin jumped at the sound of Cartman's voice directly in his ear. He whipped his head around to find the heavy teen standing over his shoulder, his gaze directed at Craig and Kenny.

"Jesus, Cartman. Give a guy a heart attack."

"Kenny's been going to that asshole's house every day," Cartman commented. "Even on Sunday. Can you believe that? Kenny McCormick, doing schoolwork. On a _Sunday_. He never works on a project outside of school when he's partnered with me."

Kevin snorted. "Yeah, imagine not wanting to do extra work with _you_."

"Whatever," Cartman grunted. "Speaking of extra work, when are we getting together to write this report?"

Kevin grimaced. "Dammit. Why don't I just write the report myself?"

Cartman scoffed. "Forget it Stoley. I'm not sacrificing my grade in this class. You might be used to being a disappointment to you parents, but I have standards."

* * *

"So our mutant trait was the curly winged type," Craig said, reading his notes. "And after breeding our mutants with the wild type, we found the curly winged trait to be the dominant gene, which means…"

"…it only needs to get the gene from one parent," Kenny finished confidently.

Craig peered at Kenny over the top of his notebook with narrow eyes. "Okay, McCormick," he said, nodding toward the poster board on the coffee table. "Draw the Punnett square if you know so much about biology all of the sudden."

Kenny grinned, picking up a marker. "What? You can't admit that you're a little bit proud of me?"

"Congratulations, Kenny. It only took you two weeks to grasp one of the most basic concepts of genetics."

Kenny laughed. "Fine, jerk."

Craig set his notebook down. "So this party tomorrow night…"

Kenny's heart sank. "You're not backing out are you? I just…" He fiddled with the cap to his marker. "I thought it would be more fun with you there."

"No, I'm going," Craig assured him. "It's just, Clyde says Bebe didn't know anything about Wendy throwing a party."

Kenny nodded. "Right. Because Wendy's not throwing it. Stan is."

"Stan's throwing a party at Wendy's house?"

"Yeah, well. Wendy's parents are out of town, and Stan's always trying to get out of spending time alone with her, so…party."

Craig nodded knowingly. "I get it. He's not into her anymore."

"You can tell?"

Craig shrugged. "I mean, maybe he was at one time, and maybe he still really cares about her and doesn't want to hurt her. That's probably why he hasn't broken up with her yet. That, and Bebe says Stan was Wendy's first, so he probably feels like he owes her something. But, yeah, it kinda seems like he's not into her anymore."

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "You think this much about Stan and Wendy's relationship?"

"No. But. I guess I just get it." Craig broke eye contact, pointing his gaze instead at the blank poster board on the table. "On some level, it just has to work. All that complicated stuff is okay to some degree, as long as underneath it all, it's just about two people who like each other." He wiped his palms on his jeans. "You have to have that feeling, you know? It has to feel _right_."

Kenny swallowed. "Have you? Had that feeling?"

"Maybe. Fleetingly." Craig looked at Kenny. "Have you?"

"I've tried. I mean, I've tried with _so many_ girls. But no."

Craig licked his lips, and Kenny didn't even pretend not to stare. "Have you tried with a guy?"

Kenny's heart stopped, because that wasn't the sort of question you just asked a male friend for no reason. Was it? Why would Craig ask him that unless he _knew_ Kenny had feelings for him? Or wanted him to?

Kenny took a deep breath. He needed to end this. He needed to stop overthinking this and just be _kissing_ Craig already. And so he did. He reached out to slide a hand behind that long neck and pulled Craig into a searing kiss.

Craig fell into the kiss naturally. It was different. Not what Kenny was used to, because Craig towered over him, and his hands, which had made their way under Kenny's shirt, were large and rough, sliding up his back. But as foreign and unfamiliar as this was for Kenny, it felt right. It felt like he'd been wasting too many years of his life _not_ kissing Craig.

And then the front door was opening, and Craig was pulling away, and Kenny was tugging his shirt back into place, and Craig's father was walking into the house with a pizza and the smile of a man with no idea what had just transpired in his living room.


	3. Hypothesis

Alright, guys. I'm sorry this chapter took so long and ended up being so much shorter than previous chapters. There were certain parts in this chapter that weren't working, so I decided to move them to later in the story.

Just FYI, the next chapter will contain a sex scene, so the rating is going to go up. Which means you won't see it posted unless you have the filter turned off or you're subscribed to this story.

 **Practical Applications of the Scientific Method**

 **Chapter 3: Hypothesis**

"Isn't this a great party?" Cartman said, twisting off the cap of his Budweiser. "The whole class is here, there's terrible music playing, Stan and Wendy are fighting on the back patio…"

"You're despicable, Cartman," Kyle replied. "I can't believe you talked Stan into throwing this party just to piss off Wendy. The lengths you're willing to go to just to win a stupid bet."

Cartman laughed. "Don't get all high and mighty, Kahl. You know as well as I do that Stan and Wendy have been over for years. You only want your best friend to salvage his dead relationship because _you_ want to win a bet. So who's really the despicable one here?"

Kyle scowled indignantly. "Kenny. Tell Cartman he's not supposed to be meddling when we have a bet going."

Kenny just sipped his beer and stared across the room. Kyle rolled his eyes. He didn't know what Kenny's deal was lately, but for the last two weeks, even when he wasn't MIA he still wasn't present. He waved a hand in Kenny's face. "Kenny!"

Kenny shook his head, smacking Kyle's hand away. "What?"

"Are you high?"

"What? No. I'm listening. You and Cartman have some kind of bet going about Stan." He took a swig of his beer. "I don't know why you expect me to be interested though. You two do dumb shit like this all the time."

"He's moody," Cartman remarked, taking a sip from his bottle. "Must be girl trouble."

Kenny scoffed. " _I_ don't have trouble when it comes to girls."

"Don't give me that crap, McCormick. Now who is she?"

Kenny sighed. "Okay, so maybe I made out with someone last night. And maybe we haven't talked about it since. And maybe I don't really know where we stand."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "That's it? That's what's bothering you?"

"Well I'm sorry that my relationship drama isn't interesting enough to be worth making dumbass bets over."

"Fuck's sake, Kenny," Cartman said, sloshing his beer as he waved his arms dramatically. "She already frenched you, so obviously she's into you. So pull out your fucking tampon and stop angsting over it. We already have one Stan in this group."

"Fuck you."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "As idiotic as everything sounds when it comes out of Cartman's mouth, he's got a point. You like her, she likes you. Go do something about it."

"It's not a…" Kenny scratched his neck. "It's complicated."

"What's complicated?" Cartman downed his beer and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Give her a good deep-dicking and be done with it."

"Cartman, you're a fucking moron."

"Ignore him," Kyle said, placing a hand on Kenny's shoulder. "Is mystery girl here tonight?"

Kenny nodded.

"Then go talk to her."

Kenny took a deep breath and nodded again.

"And Ken?"

"What?"

"You should probably put down the beer first."

"You're right," Kenny agreed, thrusting his bottle into Kyle's hand. "I should go find something stronger."

* * *

"But can we really be sure they're not the same person?"

"They're not. She's dead, Tweek. Let it go."

"But to we _know_?" Tweek replied, swinging his empty beer bottle emphatically. "Beyond a reasable…reason-anable doubt?"

"They found her body," Kevin replied, snatching away the empty bottle. "Her skull was cracked."

"Oh yeah? I didn't see a body. Did you see a body?"

"Tweek!" Kevin cried, exasperated. "Katy Perry is not JonBenet Ramsey."

Craig rolled his eyes. "Kev, you know better than to reason with Tweek when he's drunk."

"Yeah," Tweek agreed. "Don't reason with me."

"Oh, god. Is Tweek at it again with the conspiracy theories?" Token asked, arriving with four bottles of beer. "Where's Clyde?"

"He went to Wendy's parents' room to fuck Bebe," Kevin replied, accepting a beer from Token.

"Gimme," Tweek said, reaching for a bottle.

"No, Tweek, you're cut off," Token said, handing a bottle to Craig.

Tweek pouted. "Mean."

"There's a Keurig in the kitchen. Why don't you go make yourself a cup of coffee?"

Tweek scoffed. "You know I don't drink coffee that comes from _pods_."

"I'm just looking out for you, Tweek. I only do it because I care."

Craig snorted. "Gay."

Tweek's eyes lit up. He pointed at Kevin excitedly. "Did you know AIDS was created by the government to target gay men?"

Kevin rubbed his temples. "Jesus Christ, Tweek."

"No, actually that one's true," Craig said, twisting off his beer cap.

Token shook his head. "No dude. AIDS was created to target black people."

"No way, man. You're thinking of crack."

Token opened his mouth to argue, but his attention was stolen away when the patio door swung open and Wendy stormed in, followed soon after by a sullen-looking Stan.

"You think they broke up?" Token asked, his eyes following Wendy.

"God, I hope so," Craig replied. "Those two are exhausting, and I don't give two shits about either of them."

"She's cute, right?"

Craig shrugged, studying the unhappy couple. "Sure," he agreed half-heartedly.

Stan watched Wendy storm off towards the kitchen and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly before starting to cross the living room toward his friends.

"We should talk to him," Token said.

Craig raised an eyebrow. "Did you not hear the part where I don't give two shits about him?"

"Hey Stan!" Token called, stopping Stan just as he was passing Craig and his friends.

Stan halted, turning wearily to Token. "What?"

"Everything okay with Wendy?" Token asked, handing Stan the extra beer he had been holding for Clyde.

"Dude, she flipped out," Stan replied, accepting the beer.

Craig rolled his eyes. "Because most girls are thrilled when their boyfriends throw parties at their houses while their parents are out of town."

Stan cracked open his beer and took a long drink. "I don't need your smartass comments right now, Tucker."

"Really? I just thought since being a dumbass doesn't seem to be working so well for you…"

Stan flipped him off lazily, and Craig returned the gesture.

" _Two hours_ ," Stan moaned, running a hand through his hair. "Two hours, she yelled at me out there."

"Did she break up with you?" Token asked.

"Please. It wouldn't have taken her _two hours_ to break up with me. Do you _know_ how long two hours is?"

"Long enough for Clyde to ditch us," Craig replied.

"Long enough for Tweek to get wasted," Kevin added.

"Speaking of wasted…" Token said, staring toward the kitchen.

Craig met his gazed, surprised to see Kenny stumbling towards him, red solo cup in hand.

"Dear god," he mumbled under his breath.

"Craig Tucker!" Kenny shouted, dark liquid sloshing out of his cup as he threw his arms around the taller boy. "Are you ready for this _dick_?"

Craig felt his ears grow hot.

"God, Kenny, are you drinking whiskey?" Stan asked, cringing. "He gets stupid when he drinks whiskey," he explained to the rest of the group. "Sometimes he blacks out."

"We got an A on our project," Kenny announced, as Craig attempted to detangle himself from the blond. "It was my first A."

"Yeah. You're welcome, Kenny. Wanna get off me now?"

Kenny leaned in, his mouth brushing against Craig's ear, which did things to Craig's body that he really hoped his friends didn't notice. "Play your cards right and you can be my first D too," Kenny whispered, which didn't help at all.

Craig shook him off. "Kenny, what the fuck?" he spat, trying to look as disgusted by Kenny as he possibly could.

Stan rolled his eyes. "I should get him home before he passes out."

Craig's heart sank. As embarrassing as Kenny was being right now, he didn't want Stan to take him away.

"But shouldn't you stay and help your girlfriend clean up her house?" he pointed out. "I mean, you did throw this party against her will."

Stan frowned, watching his friend anxiously. "I guess."

"I have my dad's car. I can get Kenny home," Craig offered.

Stan rubbed his neck. "Okay. Thanks."

Craig turned to Tweek. "You need a ride too?"

Tweek wrinkled his nose. "Fuck no, party pooper. I'm staying here."

"I'll make sure he gets home," Kevin assured him.

"Okay." Craig nudged Kenny. "Let's go, McCormick."

"You're gonna let an Asian drive me home? I'd rather do it myself, thank you very much."

"Fine by me," Kevin shot back.

Tweek's eyes widened. "What? I was just kidding, Kevin. Friends don't let friends drive drunk."

Craig rolled his eyes, leading Kenny away.

"You guys know what vaccines do to you?" he heard Tweek ask, as he and Kenny made their way through the crowd.

"Jesus Christ, Tweek!"

* * *

Kenny woke up to a throbbing headache and the faint red glow of the afternoon sun penetrating his eyelids. He groaned, reaching over his head to pull his pillow over his face. He breathed in a strangely familiar smell, and it occurred to him that his pillow was too soft and his bed was too comfortable and there was a tiny squeaking noise coming from the floor below him that he recognized but couldn't quite place. There was a very good chance that this was not his bed.

He pulled the pillow away from his face slowly and rolled onto his side. Hesitantly, he peeked one eye open. The first thing he saw was a guinea pig waddling across the floor.

So he was in Craig's room. In Craig's bed.

He pinched his eyes closed and tried to recall the events of the previous night. He remembered Wendy's party. He remembered talking to Cartman and Kyle. He remembered whiskey.

"Craig?" he called out groggily.

He heard footsteps, and Craig appeared in the doorway wearing Red Racer pajama bottoms and holding a coffee mug and a bottle of aspirin. Kenny sat up, regretting it instantly as a wave of dizziness rushed over him.

"You're awake," Craig greeted him, crossing the room and handing him the pills. "I made coffee."

"Thanks," Kenny said, shaking four aspirin into his palm and popping them in his mouth. He swallowed them dry. "Did I…" he rubbed his forehead. "…give you a good deep-dicking?"

Craig handed him the coffee. "What the fuck."

Kenny pinched his eyes closed. "We didn't have sex, did we?"

"I slept on the couch. Jesus Christ, Kenny."

"Thank god. Not that I…I'd just want to remember if I…I mean, I don't even know…"

"Dude, chill out." Craig took a seat on the bed beside him. "If you want to have sex it's totally up to you."

Kenny took a sip of coffee. "So, you have before? With guys, I mean?"

"Yeah."

"Are you gay?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. I'm not."

"I know."

"I like you though."

Craig smiled, taking the mug from Kenny's hands and placing it on his night stand. "I like you too."

He reached out to run a hand through Kenny's hair before pulling him forward into a kiss. Kenny returned the kiss briefly before the dizziness hit him again. He pulled away.

Craig frowned. "What's wrong? Was that bad?"

"No, I just…" Kenny rubbed his temples. "I kind of feel like I got hit by a semi."

Craig smiled sympathetically. "Right. Come here."

He laid back on the bed, pulling Kenny down to rest on his chest. Kenny closed his eyes as Craig began to gently rub his scalp with his fingertips.

"Better?" he whispered.

"Mmm."

Craig ran his fingers through Kenny's hair, blunt fingernails slowly massaging away the throbbing in his temples. It felt so _natural_ to be lying this way with Craig. So easy. So comfortable that he felt himself growing drowsy again.

"Craig," he mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah?"

"What are we?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not," Kenny murmured, drifting into a peaceful slumber.


	4. Experimenting

**Practical Applications of the Scientific Method**

 **Chapter 4: Experimenting**

Craig was sitting at his desk in his boxers, staring idly at his computer screen, scrolling down his Facebook page, when he heard a knock on his bedroom door.

"Craig!"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Your friend's here!"

"Shit," he muttered, snatching up a stick of deodorant from the corner of his desk and rolling it on. "I'll be right out!" he called, jumping up from his chair and grabbing a pair of jeans off the floor. He pulled a gray hoodie over his head and did a quick breath check before rushing out the door into the living room.

He didn't mean to look let down when he found Clyde waiting on his sofa instead of Kenny, but his disappointment wasn't lost on his friend.

"What's wrong? Were you expecting a girl?"

"Just your girlfriend," Craig replied smoothly, planting himself on the couch beside Clyde.

"So what's up with you?" Clyde asked, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "What have you been doing?"

"You mean other than your girlfriend?"

Clyde gave him a solemn look. "Seriously, dude. What gives? I haven't heard from you all break. All the guys have been out of town for the holidays and they've all made more of an effort to talk to me than you have. You haven't even texted."

There wasn't much to tell. Craig had spent Christmas day in Boulder with his mom and sister. Other than that, he hadn't done much of anything all winter break.

Except, of course, that Kenny had been over nearly every day to watch movies and make out, but Craig wasn't about to divulge that bit of information to his best friend.

"Lot of Netflix," he answered, which was true enough. Kenny didn't have internet at his house, so he was pretty excited about Netflix. The two of them had been binge-watching Friends. Kenny always clapped along to the theme song.

"Well you're wasting Christmas break," Clyde replied. "Token's back from Hawaii tomorrow. Tell me you're at least going to his New Year's Eve party."

Craig groaned. "Another party?"

"What are you, sixty? Token's parties are the best. Everyone hooks up."

Craig saw that as another reason not to go. He hated making excuses for not following some horny girl into one of Token's many bedrooms for a romp.

"Plus, you know, New Year's Eve," Clyde went on. "It's an aphrodisiac. Every girl wants to be kissed at midnight on New Year's."

Craig rolled his eyes. This seemed like even more reason not to go, but Clyde was right, Craig had been scarce all break, and he couldn't really see himself getting out of this one.

"Fine, I'll go. But I refuse to enjoy myself."

"Craig Tucker, in the twelve years that I have known you, not once have you enjoyed yourself."

"Good, so we're in agreement."

* * *

After getting past the initial surprise of finding himself attracted to a guy and making what he believed was an incredibly mature and progressive decision _not_ to stress over what this meant about his sexuality, Kenny was faced with the whole new challenge of actually _being_ with said guy. It was taking more getting used to than he thought it would.

Kenny had had girlfriends before, and he was good at it.

He didn't know why he'd thought being with Craig would be anything like that.

The fact was that Craig was physically different than anyone he'd ever been with. He was taller than Kenny. He was heavier. He was rougher. His voice was deeper. He had an Adam's apple. And a pole where Kenny was used to finding a hole. Not that Kenny had made any actual contact with Craig's penis yet, but as he straddled the taller boy, their tongues wrestling furiously, he found himself painfully aware that it was _there_. And at some point, Craig was gonna want him to touch it.

Not that he didn't want to touch it. But where was he even supposed to start? Before this thing with Craig, Kenny had considered himself somewhat sexually experienced. But now here he was, making out with a guy, just learning the ropes, with a guy who fucking knew what he was doing already. _God_ did Craig know what he was doing. Kenny had the hard on to prove it.

Craig had been with guys before. He'd had sex with guys before. And suddenly it was like Kenny was a virgin again, and Craig was going to be his _first_ , and Kenny was fucking terrified. Because what if he was bad at it? What if they had sex and Kenny did something wrong and Craig realized he was wasting his time on a guy who _didn't_ know what he was doing?

"Is something wrong?"

Kenny's heart raced as Craig stared up at him, his gray eyes concerned.

"No," Kenny answered quickly. "Why? Did I do something wrong?"

"Yeah," Craig replied with a smile. "You're thinking too much. Just relax."

Kenny nodded, dipping down to suck at his Adam's apple. Craig responded with a deep moan that put Kenny's insecurities to rest for the time being. When he inadvertently rubbed his erection against the other boy's, Craig responded by slipping his hands into Kenny's back pockets and grinding their clothed cocks more closely together. Kenny let out a gasp, not so much at the contact itself as at the evidence of how turned on Craig was just by Kenny sucking on his neck.

"Kenny," Craig whispered between ragged breaths.

"Mmhm?" Kenny murmured against Craig's throat.

"Can I suck your dick?"

Kenny pulled off of Craig's neck, sitting up to look into his heavy-lidded eyes. "Fuck yes," he breathed.

In one swift motion, Craig flipped Kenny onto his back, his head hitting the pillow with a light thud. He let out an embarrassingly loud groan, but his only seemed to encourage Craig, who began trailing wet kisses down Kenny's chest. Kenny threw his head back as Craig's lips made their way down his torso. He felt Craig's callused hands fumbling with his jeans, dragging them down to his knees, followed closely behind my his boxer briefs. His hips gave an involuntary thrust when Craig kissed his pelvic bone. He was so painfully hard, Kenny was afraid he might cum before Craig even touched his cock. And then Craig took him into his mouth and Kenny gasped at the sudden stimulation. He lifted his head to watch, and Kenny was certain he'd never see anything hotter than Craig's head bobbing up and down on his cock. He pinched his eyes closed as Craig picked up speed, willing himself to make this last as long as he could. He had a reputation to maintain, after all. But something about this being his first time with a _guy_ made it so erotic that Kenny could barely contain himself.

Craig swallowed around the head of his penis and Kenny let out a low moan.

"Craig," he whispered, combing his hands through Craig's soft black hair. "Can I…?"

"Mm hm," Craig replied, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure down Kenny's spine. He slipped his hands under Kenny's bare ass cheeks, lifting up his hips encouragingly. Kenny took the hint and thrust up into Craig's mouth, fingers grasping at his hair. Craig groaned, opening his mouth wider as Kenny's cock hit the back of his throat again and again.

Then Craig pressed his hand firmly down on Kenny's hip, and with every ounce of self-control he could muster, Kenny stilled. Craig popped off of Kenny's dick, leaving one hand on Kenny's hip and wrapping the other around his shaft and jerking. Kenny breathed heavily as Craig wrapped his mouth around the head and sucked hard, continuing to jerk.

"C-Craig…" he breathed, and before he could even utter the warning, he was shooting hard into Craig's mouth.

Craig sat up, smiling smugly as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He stood up, reaching over to his night stand to grab a bottle of water.

"I can do you now," Kenny offered, his head still spinning as he sat up.

"You don't have to do that," Craig replied, taking a long swig from the bottle.

Kenny swung his legs over the side of the bed. "You don't want me to?"

"Don't be stupid," Craig replied, as Kenny dropped to the floor in front of him. "Of course I want you to."

"Then shut up."

Kenny gave Craig's boxers a tug and his erection sprung free.

"I'll shut up now," Craig breathed.

"I might suck at this," Kenny warned.

"That's ok. You're the hottest guy I've ever been with. You could bite it off and I'd probably still cum."

"Well, we can discuss the logistics of ejaculating without a penis _after_ I give you a mediocre blowjob."

"I'm sorry. I say stupid things when guys way too hot for me are on their knees in front of me."

"I'm gonna put your dick in my mouth now."

Craig tasted like sweat with the almost sweet hint of precum. Kenny tried to take in too much right away, and found himself gagging within seconds, but Craig just ran a reassuring hand through his hair and Kenny tried again. He took it slow. Too slow, he imagined, but Craig never pushed him. He found that he couldn't take the head into his throat without gagging, so he settled for stroking the base of the shaft with his hand and taking the rest into his mouth, bobbing to the rhythm of Craig's heavy breathing. This went on for longer than Kenny would have preferred, and his jaw was really feeling it towards the end, but soon enough, Craig's breath became shorter and he was tugging lightly on Kenny's hair.

"I'm gonna cum," he whispered, and Kenny popped off of Craig's dick, giving it a few tugs before Craig shot his load across Kenny's lips.

Craig let out a shaky laugh. "Jesus, that's hot."

Kenny shrugged, licking his lips and wiping a trail of Craig's cum off of his chin with the back of his hand. "Sorry I wasn't, you know, better."

"Don't worry about it," Craig replied, reaching for Kenny's hands and pulling him to his feet. "It takes practice. Which, I mean, is totally up to you."

"I'll get better. I promise."

"Anyways, you more than made up for it by letting me cum on your face."

"Well, that was the idea."

Craig chuckled, giving Kenny a quick kiss on the lips. Which were still covered in Craig's jizz, but if he wasn't grossed out by it, Kenny didn't see any reason to be.

"Hey, do you want to go to Token's New Year's party with me?"

That took Kenny by surprised. "Like on a date?"

Craig laughed. "No, not like a date. We have to be discreet, Kenny."

"Hey, discretion is my middle name. I even have you under a fake name in my phone. That's how discreet I am. You have nothing to worry about."

Craig frowned, reaching over to his night stand to pick up his phone. He gave his touch screen a few swipes before Kenny's phone began to buzz. Kenny reached for it, but Craig snatched it up first and flipped it open, reading the screen.

"Juicy booty?"

Kenny nodded solemnly. "You're right. I should change that. Everyone will know it's you."

Craig flipped him off.

* * *

When Wendy Testaburger burst into Token's kitchen at twenty-four minutes to midnight with mascara running down her cheeks, Clyde knew he would not be getting laid that night. Which was a shame, because that would have been a hell of a way to start the New Year. But his girlfriend was Wendy's best friend, and best friends took priority over horny boyfriends.

Sure enough, before he could even finish the thought, Bebe dropped Clyde's hand and rushed over to her best friend, arms extended.

"Honey, what happened?"

Wendy's lip trembled. "Stan…dumped me."

"Again?" Clyde blurted. Red elbowed him in the ribs.

Clyde rubbed his side. To be fair, Stan and Wendy _did_ break up all the time, and New Year's Eve was a pretty shitty day to decide to dump someone. "Was Stan's resolution to be an ass, or what?" he mumbled.

"You're just mad that your girlfriend is obligated to spend the night with Wendy now," Craig replied in a hushed tone. "Just beat one out. I'm sure you'll live."

"That's easy for you to say," Clyde whispered back. "You can still hook up with any girl at this party. Bebe's the only girl I'm allowed to sleep with."

"No I can't," Craig replied, scratching his neck. "I mean, I agreed to be designated driver tonight. I took my dad's car. So I can't stay all night."

"Dude. Lame."

Craig shrugged.

"You're Kenny's ride, right?" Red jumped in, tucking a lock of light red hair behind her ear. "I could get him off your hands for you tonight," she offered with a sly smile.

Craig's face remained stoic, but Clyde noticed him clench his fist. He raised an eyebrow. Clyde didn't know what was up with Craig lately, but before he had time to dwell on it, he was distracted by the sudden and unwanted presence of Eric Cartman.

"Hey you guys," Cartman greeted them, placing a large hand on Wendy's back and rubbing small circles into it as she sobbed onto Bebe's shoulder. "Hey Wendy. Stan told me what happened. You doing okay?"

"W-what do you c-care?" Wendy hiccupped.

"Stan's worried about you," Cartman replied. "I promised him I'd get you home."

Bebe held Wendy tighter. "I can get her home."

"How many drinks have you had?"

Bebe pursed her lips.

"It's okay, Bebe," Wendy said, pulling away. "I can go with Cartman. You stay and have fun at the party. It's New Year's."

Bebe pushed a damp lock of hair from Wendy's face. "You'll call me when you get home?"

"Cross my heart."

Bebe turned to Cartman. "If you don't have her home in twenty minutes I'm coming after you."

Red crossed her arms. "Wait, _what_?"

Craig clapped a hand on Clyde's back. "Looks like you're getting laid tonight after all."

Red stared in horror as Cartman ushered Wendy out of the kitchen, his beefy shoulder bumping into Token as he stumbled in with an armful of empty beer bottles.

"Trash cans in every room of this house and people still leave their empties on the mantle," he muttered, dropping the bottles into the trash.

Red shook her head. "Guys, are we really letting Cartman take Wendy home in her vulnerable state just so Clyde can get laid tonight?"

Clyde winced as Token shot him a look. "You did _what_?"

* * *

"It'll be okay, Stan. You and Wendy will work this out."

"Not this time, Kyle."

"But it's you and Wendy. You always work things out."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Well maybe this time I don't want to work things out. _I_ dumped _her_ , remember?"

Kenny was only half paying attention to his friends. He'd been scanning the room for Craig for the past half hour, but the other boy had been making himself scarce the entire night. Apparently "going to Token's New Year's party together" meant taking the same car and then not being within ten feet of each other for the rest of the night. This was not what Kenny thought Craig had meant by "discretion." He thought at the very least they'd have found a closet to make out in by now.

"Why wouldn't you want Wendy?" Kyle went on. "I mean, she's the total package, right? She's smart. She's pretty. She has integrity. Kenny, help me out here."

"She has great tits," Kenny piped up. "Sure, they're not big, but they're perky. They stand up all on their own without a bra or anything."

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Will you two please shut up?"

Kenny shrugged. "Kyle, I'm getting the feeling here that Stan does not want Wendy back."

Stan threw up his arms. "I don't! That's why I dumped her!"

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows. He grabbed Kenny by the sleeve. "Kenny, sidebar please," he said, dragging the blond a few feet away, into a hallway that was slightly more private, but not much quieter.

"You're killing me out there, McCormick. I'm working on a deadline here. I need to get those two back together by Valentine's Day, which means I need you on top of your game. Do you understand me?"

"I think you're taking this bet with Cartman a little too seriously," Kenny replied absently. From their new location, he could see into Token's kitchen, and as he peered inside, he finally spotted Craig, looking bored as usual, as he sipped a Dr. Pepper and half paid attention to whatever conversation Bebe was having with Red. Kenny turned back to Kyle. "Stan seems pretty sure about his decision. Isn't this about what he wants?"

"There's more at stake here than Stan's feelings."

"Like the possibility that Cartman might be right this time?"

"Kenny McCormick, if you value this friendship at all, you will never repeat those words in my presence." Kyle glanced back over at where they'd left Stan. "Speaking of Cartman, where is that asshole?"

"Pretty sure he went to find Wendy."

"That sneaky bastard! Why didn't you warn me?"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Right. Well, personally, I think it's the best friend's job to get his boy drunk after a breakup, but since you have more pressing matters at hand, I'm gonna go to the kitchen and get Stan a Jack and Coke."

"But what about helping me get him back with Wendy?"

"Kyle, buddy, I brought up her perky tits. If that doesn't do it for him, I don't know what will."

Kenny walked away, leaving Kyle slack-jawed behind him. He slipped into the kitchen, where Token seemed to be having an aneurism.

"I can't believe you guys let Wendy leave with _Cartman_ ," he groaned, clutching a chunk of his tight curls.

Clyde shrugged. "What's the big deal? He's giving her a ride home. She promised she'd…"

"Are you stupid?" Token cut him off. "Do I really need to explain this to you? Why you shouldn't have let the crying girl who just got dumped get into a car with a fucking sociopath?"

"Dude," Kenny whispered, sidling up to Craig. "Is it just me or is Token really into Wendy?"

Craig turned to Kenny with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Kenny laughed. "The fuck are you talking about? You invited me."

"And you said you could be discreet," Craig whispered. "I invited you because I thought you'd get drunk like last time and I could have an excuse to leave early. I'm your DD, not your date."

Kenny could feel a knot forming in his chest. His cheeks felt hot with anger. His mouth was dry. He licked his lips.

Craig's eyes softened. "That came out wrong."

"I have to get Stan a drink," he mumbled. "He just broke up with his girlfriend."

Kenny walked like a zombie to the kitchen island that was cluttered with red cups and bottles of cheap beer and expensive liquor. "Beer before liquor, never sicker," he muttered to himself, reaching for a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"You're not getting drunk, are you?" a female voice asked, and Kenny turned to see Red standing beside him, head tilted so that her long hair spilled down her shoulder and across the countertop.

"It's for Stan," Kenny explained, pulling a cup from atop one of the many stacks.

"That's good," Red replied. "Because it's almost midnight, and the plans I have for you involve you being sober."

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "Plans?"

"FOURTEEN! THIRTEEN! TWELVE!" somebody shouted from the living room.

"Starting with a kiss."

Others had begun chanting along now, "TEN! NINE! EIGHT!"

Kenny glanced at Craig, who was watching the two of them intently, not even pretending to count down. He turned back to Red, who was smiling up at him sweetly. She was pretty, her strawberry blonde hair soft and smooth, and falling into loose waves at the ends. Her green eyes wide and inviting. Her porcelain skin littered with freckles, a few of them spilling onto her pink lips.

"FIVE! FOUR!"

Kenny dipped down and pressed his lips to hers. Her slender hands made their way around his neck. He put his own on her hips and pulled her in closer.

"ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" the party shouted.

Kenny pulled away, gasping for air, and Red let out a breathy laugh. "You went too soon," she giggled.

Kenny gave her a tight smile, which he hoped looked sheepish, but just felt phony. He glanced back at where Craig had been standing, but he was no longer there.

* * *

Craig drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and tried to steady his breathing. He sucked in a deep breath, then pursed his lips as he blew out a stream of mist into the cold Colorado air. The image of Kenny kissing Red was seared onto his eyelids, so he tried to focus instead on the Christmas lights that still hung around Token's garage door. He could still hear the party going on inside. He wondered if Kenny and Red were still in the kitchen, or if they'd made their way to one of the Blacks' many empty bedrooms.

He shook the thought out of his head and turned the key in the ignition. The heater kicked on cold at first, and he rubbed his bare hands together for warmth before placing his right hand on the cold plastic of the gear shift. He didn't see any point in sticking around. Everyone would probably be too busy getting laid to notice he was gone anyways. But just as he was about to shift the car into reverse, the passenger door open and Kenny slipped in beside him.

"What are you doing here?"

"You invited me."

"Don't give me that, Kenny."

Kenny sighed. "I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened."

Craig shrugged. "It's fine. Why should I care who you make out with? It's not like you're my boyfriend."

"It's not?"

Suddenly Craig felt short of breath for an entirely different reason.

"I'm not ready."

"Like in general? Or just not with me?"

"You like girls," he pointed out.

"Can't I like you too?" Kenny asked.

"Well you obviously can't resist _them_."

Kenny threw up his hands. "Craig, how do you not get it? I'm out here in the freezing cold with _you_ instead of in there with a girl who is actually _nice_ to me! I don't want Red, okay? Or any other girl. I just want you. Okay, for some damn reason I just want you. And up until tonight, I kinda thought you wanted me too."

"What makes you think I don't?"

"Because you invited me here and then blew me off all night? Because I thought I was your date, not your escape plan?"

The heater was finally blowing out warm air, but the pink color in Kenny's cheeks remained. Craig swallowed.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."

Craig licked his lips nervously before leaning across the center console to place a light kiss on Kenny's pink cheek. Kenny smiled and returned the kiss, this time on the lips. Craig leaned in further to deepen the kiss, and Kenny's urgent tug on the bottom of his coat was invitation enough for him to crawl across the center console and straddle the other boy's narrow hips. Kenny hummed in approval, his lips making their way down to the dip in Craig's neck just below his ear.

"Kenny," Craig moaned softly, as Kenny nibbled lightly on his earlobe. He could feel Kenny growing hard beneath him, and even between two layers of denim, the sensation of Kenny's growing erection settling between the cheeks of his ass was making Craig hard as well. He groaned, throwing back his head, making room for Kenny to kiss his way down his neck to his collarbone.

"Craig," Kenny whispered between love bites. "What do you want from me?"

"I want to feel you inside me."

Kenny pulled away.

"Shit," Craig muttered. The look on Kenny's face was definitely not lust. Craig felt the blood rushing to his face instead of his dick. "You're not into that. I'm an idiot."

"Is sex all you want from me?"

"No! Kenny, that's not what I meant."

"Because I know what people say about me, but that doesn't mean…"

"Kenny, no," Craig cut him off. "I'm not using you for sex. I just…misread the moment. I thought you were as turned on as I am."

Kenny sighed. "I am. But I've never been in this position before."

Craig raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what Kenny meant. "The seats fold down."

"No, dumbass. I meant I've never been with someone way more experienced than I am."

Craig sighed. "Oh. Well we can take things as slow as you need to. No hurry."

"I _would_ like for my first time to not be in the passenger seat of your dad's Malibu."

"That's fair."

Kenny smiled, placing another soft kiss on Craig's collarbone. "So what do you say we go to your house?"

edit/author's note: Just a reminder that this is first and foremost a story, not pornography. As a writer, I will only write sex scenes if they move the story forward. Also, I'm not the kind of person who places a lot of importance on who is top/bottom. I personally don't believe that any person has to be one or the other. In this case, I wrote it this way for a reason, but that does not mean it will be this way every time. (Kenny's new at this you guys. Have some sympathy. Let him go at his own pace. Stop trying to fuck him in the ass right away.) Just...read for the story. Read for the character growth. I feel really gross having to explain this. If you're reading this for the sex scenes or if you place a lot of importance on who is top or bottom, you're going to be disappointed.


	5. Analyzing

**Practical Applications of the Scientific Method**

 **Chapter 5: Analyzing**

"You seen my shirt?" Kenny asked, rummaging through the piles of clothes on Craig's floor.

"Just wear one of mine," Craig offered, gesturing toward his closet.

He was definitely enjoying this new development in their relationship. Watching Netflix and making out all winter break had been nice, but it was nothing compared to watching Kenny walk around his room naked, his thick blond hair disheveled from sex, post-coital sleep, and more sex. He almost couldn't believe it. Nerdy, antisocial Craig Tucker was having sex with Kenny McCormick.

Kenny pulled on his jeans. "I don't know, man. Your clothes are all pretty gay."

"Fuck off, Kenny."

He didn't want to admit it, but he hated that Kenny had to leave so soon. Part of him wanted to pull him back into bed and bury his face in that thick head of hair. But an even bigger part of him didn't want Kenny to know he felt that way. Besides, he was sore and sated and cocooned in a mess of blankets on his bed, so he could hardly complain about the state of things.

Kenny grinned and walked over to the closet, yanking down the first shirt he found and pulling it over his head. "Dude," he said, turning back to face Craig. "Why do you have a North Park t shirt?"

Craig winced, recognizing the shirt that he hadn't even realized he still had. "Because that's Sean's shirt."

"Dude, what the fuck?" Kenny cried, pulling off the t shirt and throwing it on the floor like it had burned him. "Wait, who the fuck is Sean?"

"My ex."

"Right," Kenny said, plunging back into Craig's closet. "This one's definitely yours, right?" he said, as he emerged donning a Red Racer t shirt.

Craig's cheeks grew warm. "That's, like, an old shirt. Like, from junior high."

"It's fine, Craig. I know you're a nerd," Kenny replied absently, returning his attention to the piles of clothes on the floor. "So when you say 'ex', you mean, like, some guy you used to fuck? Like a booty call?"

Craig raised an eyebrow. "No, I mean like an ex-boyfriend. Like someone I dated."

"Okay. So you're not, like, weird about labels then."

Craig huddled tighter in his cocoon. "No. Why would I be?"

"No reason," Kenny replied, finding his coat on the floor and pulling it on.

Craig frowned. Putting on his coat meant he would be leaving, and the only thing Craig wanted less than for Kenny to leave was to ask him to stay. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked instead.

Kenny zipped up his coat. "Oh, my dad takes me hunting every winter before school starts back up."

"Oh."

"You could come." Kenny offered, perching on the edge of Craig's bed. "It could be fun."

Craig scoffed. "On a family outing with your dad? Like a couple?"

"My dad doesn't really assume that I'm fucking every guy I bring over to meet him. Does yours? And, like, how many guys would that be, by the way?"

"Look, I just don't want you getting the wrong idea about what this is."

"Well, until you actually decide what this is, I don't really know how you expect me to get the _right_ idea," Kenny replied, standing back up.

"Kenny, don't be mad…"

"I'm not mad. I just…I know now. Fucking you is a-ok, but dragging dead animal carcasses around the woods is too intimate. I'll store that away for next time."

"Dude…" Craig said, but Kenny was already out the door.

* * *

"So you drove Wendy home," Kenny said, shoving his heavy orange coat into his locker. "And then what?"

Cartman shrugged, unwrapping his breakfast burrito. "Nothing happened. I dropped her off. She went inside. I went home."

"I don't buy it," Kyle replied, as the three boys began walking down the hall. "You had an agenda when you offered her that ride. Something else happened that you're not telling us."

It was the first day back at school, and Kyle had yet to see Stan. He'd tried calling him after the New Year's party, but his best friend had kept to himself since the big breakup. Which didn't bode well for Kyle, because he had a bet to win.

"Well, let's just say Stan and Wendy are not getting back together," Cartman said with a smirk.

Kyle scowled. "How do you know that?"

"Because she said, 'Stan and I are never getting back together. Like, ever.'"

Kenny cackled. "She didn't say that."

"Maybe not in those exact words."

"Did she also tell you that Stan's the reason for the teardrops on her guitar?"

"Wendy doesn't play guitar, Kahl."

Kyle was prepared to comment on how fucking stupid Cartman was, when a voice from behind them interrupted him.

"Kenny?" The three of them turned around to see Craig standing over them, looking nervous as he twisted a yellow scarf between his hands. "Can I talk to you?" he asked. "About…our project?"

"The project you turned in three weeks ago?" Cartman asked.

"…That's the one."

Kenny looked from Craig to his two friends and sighed. "Yeah. Let's go."

Kyle watched in confusion as Craig dragged Kenny down the hall. In his momentary distraction he didn't notice right away when Cartman started heading toward their first period class without him.

"That guy is weird," Cartman commented, as Kyle jogged to catch up with him.

"Definitely," Kyle agreed, still a few steps behind.

"Anyways. Where the hell is Stan?" Cartman asked, turning the corner toward the choir room. "Don't tell me he pussied out and decided to…"

Cartman stopped in his tracks so suddenly that Kyle ran right into him, knocking his breakfast burrito onto the floor.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

But when Kyle turned the corner, it all fell into place. His heart sank. There was Wendy, being pressed against the choir room door by Token, his full lips centimeters from her ear as she giggled like a school girl. Which, like, she technically was, but it wasn't the manner in which Kyle was used to seeing Wendy behave.

"That was fast."

"Told you. Stan and Wendy are never getting back together. Get ready to freeze your nutsack off, Kahl."

"Hey, this isn't over yet," Kyle argued. "I have until Valentine's Day, and they're…just talking."

"Keep telling yourself that, Kahl," Cartman said, backing away dramatically. "You keep right on…" His foot landed on the fallen breakfast burrito, grinding cheese and scrambled eggs onto the hallway floor. "The janitors around here need to do their fucking jobs."

* * *

"So, is this how you do that discretion thing you're so crazy about?" Kenny asked, as Craig dragged him into an empty classroom.

"Shut up, Kenny," Craig replied, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Craig, as fun as hooking up in the Spanish room sounds, I have choir in…eight minutes, and it's like the only class I actually like."

Craig crossed his arms. "Is that all you think I want from you? Sex?"

Kenny didn't reply, because, well, _yeah_. That was typically the reason people took an interest in him. Not to mention the fact that Craig looked like he wanted to disappear anytime Kenny brought up the idea of a relationship. And he wasn't about to bring up the fact that he hadn't even heard from Craig in three days, because Craig wasn't his boyfriend. He was under no obligation to reply to Kenny's texts.

Craig sighed. "Look, I just wanted to apologize. I acted like an asshole the other day."

Kenny shrugged. "It's fine."

"You're mad though," Craig replied, reaching up to push the hair off Kenny's forehead. Kenny's breath caught in his throat.

"You can make it up to me after school," he whispered.

He wasn't sure why he had to say that so suggestively, except that if Craig _was_ only interested in him for sex, he certainly wasn't going to make it seem like it was off the table.

Craig smiled. "Well, if that's what you want, we could take it to the next level."

Holy _crap_ did Craig have a talent for being confusing. It almost sounded like he meant making things official, but Kenny was still Kenny, and relationships were just for guys from North Park named Sean who probably knew how Punnett squares worked and gave decent head and didn't fuck a dude on the first date.

"Are we talking bondage?" Kenny said finally. "Because I'm cool with some light choking, but we should probably come up with a safe word first."

Craig blinked. "Um, no. I meant we could, you know, switch things up. Change roles?"

 _Oh._

"Craig? Are you asking to fuck me in the ass?"

Craig laughed. "What? No. No, no. I mean, _yeah_ , but… Yes."

Kenny's head felt cloudy, and his body heavy, like that momentary bit of hope that had filled his brain like a balloon was now leaking a noxious gas into his system.

"Craig, I gotta get to class."

"Oh. Yeah. Cool. You wanna talk about this later then?"

Kenny sighed. "Rain check on the butt-fucking for now?"

"Well, you want to come over anyways? We can watch a movie or something."

Kenny nodded. "Sure."

* * *

Third period was basically just a blow off class for Craig. He had no artistic ability whatsoever and still managed to pull an A in the class, just sitting at a table with Clyde, Bebe and Red, listening to them gossip while he made a mess of his paint or pastels or charcoal. Today it was clay, and he barely paid attention to his friends while he shaped a small deer in his palms. His mind was on Kenny.

He wasn't sure what he'd done to upset Kenny this time. He'd thought they'd patched everything up on New Year's, but then Kenny'd just gone right back to being mad at him the next day. Maybe Craig should have accepted his invitation to go hunting with Kenny and his dad. But he hated the cold and the woods and venison and people who mounted animal heads on their walls like trophies, and if Craig was willing to put all that aside for Kenny, well, they'd both know who was in this thing deeper, and Kenny would have the upper hand.

Then again, the fact that Craig was sculpting him a ceramic deer might do that too.

"What's that?" Clyde asked, scoring a thick handle onto his lumpy coffee mug. "A dog?"

Craig scowled. "What? No, it's a deer!"

"Why's it so fat?"

"Why are _you_ so fat?" Craig shot back.

Clyde pouted. "Babe, am I fat?"

"No, Craig's just weirdly sensitive about his ugly deer and bad at comebacks," Bebe replied, not looking up from her clay teapot.

"You're bad at comebacks," Craig mumbled under his breath.

"Hey Bebe," Stan greeted, walking up behind the blonde. "I like your teapot."

"What do you want, Stan?" Bebe asked, still concentrating on her work.

Stan turned around to look at Kyle, who was sitting a few tables away. Kyle waved his hand, urging him to continue. Stan sighed.

"Um. So, how's Wendy doing?"

"Like you care."

Stan frowned. "Of course I care. I'll always care about Wendy."

Bebe rolled her eyes. "Well, she's fine. No thanks to you."

"And no thanks to _you_ letting Cartman take her home from the New Year's party," Red added.

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Cartman drove her home?"

"She was _fine_ ," Bebe said, smoothing the spout on her teapot. "She called me a few minutes after midnight, safe and sound in her home. Red even stopped by after the party, right Red?"

Craig smirked. "Oh yeah? Didn't close the deal with Kenny, huh?"

It was a dick move, sure, but Craig couldn't help but be elated about his secret victory.

"No," Red replied matter-of-factly. "Wendy was more important."

Bebe laughed. "Kenny disappeared after he kissed her at midnight."

Red blushed. "Bebe, oh my god!"

Bebe turned to Stan. "So what happened to him?"

Stan shrugged. "I didn't see him after midnight. I actually haven't seen him since the party."

"Guess he found somebody hotter to go home with," Craig said.

Clyde frowned. "Where did _you_ go after midnight?"

Craig shrugged. "Home. Went to bed."

"Is that supposed to be a cow?" Stan asked.

* * *

"It's really easy," Kenny said, tucking his head into the crook of Craig's neck. "I name three people, and of those three people, you decide who you would marry, who you'd fuck and who you'd dump."

"And you and your friends play this a lot?"

"Yeah, you've really never played this before?"

"No, my friends and I play a game called 'Get Tweek Really Drunk and Listen to the Crazy Shit He Says.'"

The two boys were in Craig's bed, snuggling, which they'd done a lot of over the winter holiday. They were also naked, which was a newer development. Kenny had sworn to himself that he was just going over to Craig's that day to watch movies, but somehow he'd ended up fucking him again. He didn't know what it was about Craig that was so hard to resist. It was easy to spend two days out in the woods and stew about how hurt he was by Craig's passiveness and how unsatisfied he was with Craig's inability to commit, but as soon as they were alone together, all of that went out the window as quickly as their clothes hit the floor.

It was simple when they were alone. It wasn't about who they were relative to the rest of the world. It was just about them. Talking and laughing and kissing and fucking. When it was just them, it made sense.

"So, like, Joey, Ross and Chandler," Kenny said. "Marry, dump, fuck?"

"Well, fuck Joey, obviously."

Kenny laughed. "I didn't realize it was so obvious."

"Dump Chandler, marry Ross."

"Really? I'd think most people would dump Ross. But I guess since you're a nerd too, you'd get along."

"I'm not a nerd."

"You're such a nerd, Craig."

"Ok, fine," Craig replied, and even though Kenny couldn't see his face, he could _hear_ the indignant pout in his voice.

"Stan, Kyle and Cartman?"

"Dump Cartman, marry Stan, fuck Kyle," Craig replied without hesitation.

"That was fast," Kenny said, propping up on his elbow to look Craig in the eyes. "You given this some thought already?"

Craig raised an eyebrow. "You haven't?"

Kenny laughed. "No, I really haven't. So, you'd fuck Kyle, huh?"

"Why not? Kyle's hot."

"What is it? Is it the hair?"

Craig grinned. "I've got one for you. Three Catwomen: Anne Hathaway, Halle Berry and Michelle Pfeiffer. Go."

"I've never seen Michelle Pfeiffer's Catwoman."

Craig's jaw dropped. "What? You've never seen Batman Returns? Do you live in a cave?"

"Yes, I pretty much live in an actual cave. You know this," Kenny replied. "And besides, that movie's older than I am."

Craig sat up. "Well we obviously need to correct this."

"Do you have it? We can watch it right now."

"We could," Craig agreed. "But we should probably order a pizza first and have sex until it gets here."

Kenny shrugged. "Well, since we're already naked."


	6. Reanalyzing

I'm sorry, I know this chapter took forever. I've been going through some personal stuff and also trying to get this transition thing to work, which wasn't completely necessary to the chapter, but still turned out kind of cool, I think. I'll let you be the judge though.

 **Practical Applications of the Scientific Method**

 **Chapter 6: Reanalyzing**

Kenny had always been an early riser. His body just naturally woke up before the sun. It was his gift. Like Craig was good at science and Stan could drink worrying amounts of alcohol without seeming drunk, Kenny could function on very little sleep. Which was great for things like getting up for school or hunting with his dad, but not so good for sleeping over at other people's houses.

He always felt awkward waking up in someone else's house, knowing he'd have at least four hours to kill before anyone else was awake. It would be rude to just skip out at the crack of dawn without saying anything, but it would also be rude to rummage through Craig's things while he was asleep, or to go into the kitchen and treat himself to breakfast. Kenny's stomach let out a low rumble, and Craig mumbled something about elephants before rolling onto his side and resuming his snoring.

A chirp from over his shoulder reminded Kenny that there was someone else awake in the room. He looked up to see Stripe rustling around in his cage. Kenny tried his best not to jostle the bed as he got up and pulled on his boxer briefs and faded jeans.

He checked on Craig to make sure he was still sound asleep before he quietly opened the door to the pen. He reached in and pulled out the skinny rodent.

"Hey buddy," he whispered, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. "You want to run around, don't you?"

Stripe squeaked excitedly. He placed the guinea pig down on his lap, and Stripe perched on Kenny's ankle for a moment, just twitching his head in wonder, before he finally waddled onto the carpet and scuttled across the floor.

Kenny lie on his stomach, head propped up in his hands as he watched the rodent scurry around the room, stopping every now and then to sniff curiously at a discarded t shirt or text book. He watched the guinea pig in mild amusement for about ten minutes before the little guy scampered into the unknown territory that was under Craig's bed.

"Dammit," Kenny muttered, getting on his hands and knees and crawling over to the bed. "Stripe," he whispered. "Come on out, buddy. It's not gonna help my chances with Craig if I kill his rat."

He peeked under the bed and could just make out the silhouette of the rodent. "Stripe," he whispered, making soft clicking sounds with his tongue. Stripe ignored him.

Sighing heavily, Kenny reached under the bed until he felt fur and then scooped the rodent up to his chest. Stripe stared up at him with beady eyes, nibbling absently on the corner of a birthday card with the words "You're 16!" on the front.

"Hey, don't eat that," Kenny whispered, pulling the card out of Stripe's tiny paws and setting the guinea pig on his lap.

He flipped it open and read the inscription.

 _Dear Craig,_ it read. _Sorry I couldn't make it into town for your birthday. You know I'd be there if I could, but I'm taking a full load this semester and I barely have a minute to breathe. But I'll be in South Park this weekend and I already have our room booked._

It was at this point that Kenny got the feeling he should _not_ be reading this card, but morbid curiosity wouldn't let him stop. His skin tingled as he continued to read. _I can't wait to get you alone and feel you inside of me. See you soon. Happy birthday! Love, Sean._

Kenny swallowed. This card was two years old, and Craig still kept it. Who was this Sean guy? Had Craig been in love with him? Was he still? Was that why he didn't want to be with Kenny?

He was shaken out of his trance by a soft snort from the bed that Kenny instantly recognized as the sharp breath Craig always took when he woke from sleep. He shoved the card into this pocket with his still trembling hands.

"Kenny?" Craig mumbled groggily, sitting up in bed.

"Hey," Kenny replied, stroking Stripe's back. "Sorry to wake you. I was just playing with your rat."

"He's not a…" Craig's voice trailed off. He smiled sleepily, his dry lips catching on his braces. "If it wasn't so goddamn early that would be adorable. Why are you up?"

"I'm always up this early. Couldn't get back to sleep."

"Well then put on Netflix," Craig replied, lying back down. "And you can come hold me while _I_ sleep."

Kenny's stomach turned. "Yeah. I can do that."

* * *

 _I can't wait to get you alone and feel you inside me._

He knew he was only torturing himself, but Kenny couldn't help but read the card again and again. He hadn't meant to take it home with him, but once his pants had come back off, he'd forgotten it was in his pocket. And now here he was, alone in his own bed, rereading it as if the next time he opened it, it would feel different somehow.

It wasn't that he was jealous that Craig had slept with this guy. They'd both been with other people before each other. But Craig had done more than sleep with Sean. They'd been in a relationship. They'd been in _love_.

Kenny glanced at the Red Racer t-shirt bunched up in his bedroom corner and sighed. Craig didn't have Kenny's t-shirts hanging in his closet. He didn't have suggestive letters from Kenny hiding under his bed. He didn't have any evidence that Kenny had ever been there that could be found without a black light.

So what did Sean have that Kenny didn't? Was it his apparent willingness to get fucked in the ass? Or the fact that he was probably fully gay and not just visiting.

Or maybe Craig just didn't see Kenny as the type of guy you get serious with.

"Kenny, you hungry?"

Kenny looked up to see his mom standing in the doorway, staring down at him with a concerned look in her eyes.

"Uh, no, I'm good."

"What's the matter, Kenny?"

"Nothing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't give me that. I'm your mom. I can tell when something's bothering you."

Kenny rolled his eyes, stuffing the card under his pillow.

"So what is it?" his mother pressed. "Girl trouble? You're out every night. Don't think I don't notice."

Kenny's stomach tightened. "There's…someone."

"Are you using condoms?"

His cheeks flushed. " _Mom_."

"What? If you can't talk about safe sex with your mother, who can you talk about it with?"

" _Literally anyone else_."

His mother crossed her arms.

" _Yes_. We use protection, okay?"

She shrugged. "So if she's not knocked up, what's the problem?"

Kenny sighed. "I guess I feel kind of…like I can't give them everything they want."

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Like what?"

"You're saying 'they'. Are there two of them? Because if you're trying to fuck two girls at once, at least one of them is gonna end up unsatisfied. I don't understand why men always try to take on two at once when they can't even…"

He shook his head. "No, mom. There's only one of them. I'm only leaving one… _girl_ unsatisfied, okay?"

His mom narrowed her eyes. "Kenny, if she wants a relationship and you don't, you can't be stringing her along. That's not the delinquent I raised."

"No. I'd be fine with a relationship."

"Well you're already fucking her. How much more can you give her?"

" _Mom_."

"Is this about bondage? Do you have a safe word?"

"Okay, we're done talking about this."

His mother sighed, crossing the room and taking a seat beside him on his bed. "Kenny, listen to me. You are my pride and joy. You are the only good thing I've ever done."

"Mom, Karen's in the next room."

She waved a hand in the air dismissively. "I mean all you kids. Even Kevin."

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "Right."

"What I'm trying to say is, don't let this girl make you feel like you aren't good enough. She's damn lucky to have you, and if she doesn't treat you like the sun shines out your ass, she doesn't deserve you."

* * *

"I'm telling you, Red, Kenny doesn't deserve you. You could do so much better."

Red rolled her eyes as she rummaged through her duffel bag. "I've told you, like, six hundred times, Wendy. I'm over it."

"Yeah, but I thought you were just saying that because I got dumped the same night and you didn't want to make it all about you."

"You told me this morning that you wanted to make his face your new bicycle seat," Bebe pointed out, kneeling to tie her sneaker.

Red blushed. " _Bebe_. I told you that in confidence."

"Red, you said it as he was walking by in the hallway. He heard you. I think Mr. Sharman heard you, and he's practically deaf."

Red huffed. "So the guy's hot. I said I wanted to fuck him, not marry him. I'm over New Year's, okay?"

"Are you sure? Because it was pretty humiliating."

"Where the hell is my sports bra?" Red growled, jerking her duffel bag off the bench and dumping its contents onto the damp locker room floor. She sighed, looking at Bebe. "Do you have an extra?"

Bebe's eyes darted towards Red's chest incredulously. "I'd ask Wendy," she replied, raising an eyebrow.

Wendy reached into her locker for her extra sports bra and handed it to Red silently.

"So what happened on New Year's anyway?" Nichole asked Red from across the locker room as she tied back her curly hair. "Bebe told me that you like, came onto Kenny really hard and he kissed you and then rejected you?"

" _Bebe_. Is nothing sacred?"

Wendy laughed. "Come on, this is Bebe we're talking about here."

"Hey, I resent that," Bebe replied, adjusting her headband. "I didn't tell anyone you slept with Token last night."

Wendy cringed and a hush fell over the locker room as the other turned to look at her.

"Everyone's getting laid but me," Red mumbled, pulling her practice jersey over her head.

"Is it true?" Heidi asked.

Wendy sighed. "Yes, Token and I had sex."

"I meant, is it true that black guys…"

"Oh _come on_ ," Wendy cut her off. "I've only been with two guys, it's not like I have much basis for comparison."

"How was it?" Lola asked. "Was he good?"

Wendy blushed. "I mean, yeah."

"Like, really good?"

"Like incredible."

Red raised an eyebrow. "There's a word I never heard you use to describe sex with Stan."

"So are you two like an item now?" Nichole asked.

"No. I mean, not yet."

"Did he tell you some bullshit like he's not ready to label it?" Bebe asked. "Because that's Guy for 'I want to fuck other girls.'"

" _No_. We agreed not to rush into anything. I just got out of a long relationship."

"See, that's what _I_ need," Red said. "Incredible sex with someone who doesn't expect anything else from me. Is that even obtainable?"

Bebe shrugged. "Well, on one hand, you have a vagina. But on the other hand, if you couldn't get it from Kenny, I don't really like your chances."

* * *

"Are you getting what you want out of this?"

"What?" Craig replied, jamming the buttons on his NES controller.

"I know, um…" Kenny's heart pounded. It had been a week since he'd found that card under Craig's bed, and his anxiety over it grew by the day. He hadn't brought it up, on the chance that his fears would be confirmed.

Craig turned to Kenny, concerned. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I know we're not labeling this," Kenny began, fiddling with a loose strand on his jeans. "But if you were gonna sleep with somebody else…I'd want to know that."

Craig set down his controller. "I'm not having sex with anyone else, if that's what you're asking."

Kenny shook his head. "No, I know. I just thought you might want to. And we never set any boundaries, so…"

Craig looked genuinely confused. "Why would I want to fuck anyone else when I'm fucking you?"

"Wow," Kenny said, taken aback. "Thanks for that. But, I mean, if you don't want to be with me, why shouldn't I think that eventually you're gonna want to fuck somebody else?"

"Who says I don't want to be with you?"

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "Um, you?"

Craig sighed. "Look, I'm not ready to…well, to talk about why I'm not ready. But I also don't want to fuck this up." He shifted on the couch to face him. "Kenny, am I fucking this up?"

"No. I shouldn't have even brought it up. I don't want to pressure you."

"And I don't want to make you think I don't want you. I mean, I _fantasized_ about you. For years."

"Right, but how many of those fantasies took place outside your bedroom?"

"Well that's the thing," Craig replied, placing a hand on Kenny's thigh. "You're better than the fantasy. Because you can give me the most intense orgasm of my life, but then you can also just chill with me in my living room and…"

"Eat all your food and watch you get killed by river Zoras?" Kenny filled in.

"Shit," Craig muttered, turning back toward the TV which was now displaying the _Game Over_ screen. "Do you see, Kenny? Do you see what you do to me?"

"You're a fucking nerd, Craig."

"Shut up, you like it," Craig muttered, selecting _Save and Continue_ on his game screen.

"But you're also broody and secretive," Kenny replied, leaning back into the couch.

"And you don't like that part so much?"

"I guess that depends on what you're hiding."

* * *

Kevin knew that Craig was hiding something.

For about half of their freshman and most of their sophomore years, Craig had had a secret girlfriend. Now, Kevin had never actually confirmed this suspicion or shared it with the rest of their friends—if Craig wanted his privacy, that was his right—but he figured it was a fairly safe assumption, because around that time, Craig had suddenly been busy every weekend and absent from most of their group hangouts, and he'd always be covering up his phone when he read a text message. And then in March of their sophomore year, he was back, and yet, somehow more absent than before. It was easy to mistake depression for Craig's usual dismissiveness, but the change had not been lost on Kevin.

It had taken Craig that entire summer to get back to his old sarcastic self, and since Token, Tweek and Clyde hadn't seemed to notice the difference, Kevin kept his secret girlfriend theory to himself.

So when he walked into Tweek Bro's Coffee a week before Craig's eighteenth birthday and found that Craig was absent for the fourth week in a row, Kevin could only assume that his friend was back at it again with the secret romance.

He didn't know why having a girlfriend meant that Craig had to ostracize his friends. Clyde's girlfriend hung out with them all the time, and Token didn't seem to have any less time for them now that he was boning Wendy on the regular.

"I'm telling you, Token," Bebe was saying over an untouched cup of coffee. "Wendy's into you. For real. Things just ended badly with Stan, and she needs some time to get over it."

"I don't want to be, like, a rebound," Token replied. "There's just something gross about a girl only sleeping with you because she's sad."

"It's not even like that. She really likes you. And she says the sex is better than it was with Stan."

"Well that's just…totally beside the point," Token replied, trying to hide a grin.

"Hey guys," Kevin greeted the group, sliding into the booth next to Tweek. "What are we talking about?"

"Token's sex life," Tweek replied, his voice dripping with boredom.

"Oh, has Token been fucking Wendy? I hadn't heard," Kevin deadpanned.

Bebe rolled her eyes. "You two are just bitter because you _have_ no sex lives."

"Speaking of no sex life," Clyde said, glancing around the table, "where the fuck is Craig?"

* * *

"Craig… Fuck," Kenny moaned, digging his nails into Craig's thighs as the taller boy rocked on top of him. Craig grunted softly, staring down at Kenny through half-lidded eyes, his breaths short and heavy. He trailed his hands along Kenny's abdomen, up his chest and shoulders, and finally into his thick hair. He tugged lightly, and Kenny gave a shallow thrust in response. He tugged harder and Kenny gripped his thighs tighter, driving up into him.

Craig let out a cry as he fell forward, burying his face in Kenny's neck.

"Oh god," Kenny whispered, slipping a hand between their torsos and wrapping it around Craig's leaking cock. "Craig, are you close?"

Craig nodded into Kenny's neck.

"I'm gonna cum," Kenny warned, and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside of Craig as he shot his load.

Craig groaned, rocking back on Kenny's still throbbing erection as Kenny jerked him quickly between them. A few seconds later, his orgasm followed, shooting across Kenny's stomach.

Kenny winced at the overstimulation as he began to soften inside of Craig.

"Are you okay?" Craig asked, pulling off of him slowly.

Kenny nodded as Craig collapsed onto the bed beside him. "Yeah, you?"

"M-perfect," Craig mumbled, closing his eyes.

Kenny sat up, sliding off the condom and tying it off before tossing it into the trash. He grabbed a tissue from Craig's night stand and cleaned up his abdomen as best he could.

"Craig?"

"Mm," Craig replied. His breathing was growing slow and heavy.

"I should probably get going."

Craig let out a little whine, opening one eye and pinching the other one shut tighter. "No, stay."

Kenny's chest tightened. "Yeah, okay. I'll just text my mom that I'm not coming home.

"C'mere," Craig mumbled, reaching out an arm.

Kenny smiled, lying back down and settling into Craig's side. "Only because you're cute when you're sleepy."

"Shut up, Kenny."


	7. Overanalyzing

**Practical Applications of the Scientific Method**

 **Chapter 7: Overanalyzing**

"How come we never go to your house?"

Kenny laughed.

"I'm serious," Craig said, clutching the straps of his backpack. "We always go to my house. I want to go to yours."

"You don't want to go to my house," Kenny replied, stepping over a puddle.

"Yes I do."

"Okay, _I_ don't want you to go to my house."

"Why not?" Craig asked.

"Because I don't want to break the illusion."

"Everyone knows you're poor Kenny. I'm not expecting a mansion."

"That's _not_ what I meant."

"Then explain."

Kenny shrugged. "I mean, it's easy to, like, insert myself into your world, where everything is new and secret and just feel like I belong there. But outside of your world, I'm just…" He ran a hand though his hair. "I'm just trying to be everything to want, okay?"

"Kenny, I've wanted you for as long as I can remember."

"But that was in the abstract," Kenny replied. "It's one thing to want someone you think you can never have. In the abstract I can be whatever you want to be. In real life I'm just this." He gestured up and down his body as if that explained it. "I like girls and I give mediocre blowjobs and I don't take it up the ass."

Craig stopped in this tracks, grabbing the other boy's hand to stop him too. "Where the hell is this coming from?"

Kenny sighed. "I'm not Sean, okay?"

Craig tried to make eye contact, but Kenny avoided his gaze. "Kenny, what's going on?"

Kenny bit his lip. He stuffed his free hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a card. "This," he said, handing it over. "This is why you're not ready to be with me, right? Because you still have feelings for your ex?"

Craig stared at the old birthday card. "You went through my stuff?"

"No," Kenny replied indignantly. "Stripe went through your stuff." He looked at his feet. "I probably shouldn't have read it though."

Craig sighed. "Look, for the record, your blowjobs have improved a lot."

Kenny kicked at a hardened patch of snow. "Thanks."

"Kenny, Sean was a jerk."

Kenny looked up. "Oh."

"He criticized everything I did. He pressured me into shit I wasn't ready for. He cheated on me. Made me feel guilty for suspecting that he was cheating on me… And who do you talk to about that shit when you're sixteen and nobody knows that you're gay?"

Kenny swallowed. "I'm sorry. He…sounds like an asshole."

"He was. And the worst part is, it took _months_ after he dumped me to figure that out. Kenny, you are the nicest guy I've ever been with. And I'm a mess of control issues."

Kenny pulled his hand away. "So why do you keep his stuff all over your room?"

Craig laughed. "Because I'm a slob. Have you seen my room?"

Kenny shrugged. "Point taken."

"That whole thing you were saying about inserting yourself into my world? Sean never wanted to do that. He's never even been in my house."

"What?"

"He didn't want to meet my dad."

"Dude, what the fuck?"

Craig gave Kenny a tight smile, then looked around to make sure they were alone before placing a soft kiss on Kenny's temple.

"I have something for you," he said abruptly. He slid his backpack off his shoulders and rummaged around in it until his hand closed around a small, hard object. "Here," he said awkwardly, shoving the small clay object into Kenny's hands.

"Uh, thanks?" Kenny replied, accepting the gift. "What is this?"

Craig shrugged. "I made that in ceramics. I thought…I don't know…you might want it or something."

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "Cute."

"You don't have to be an asshole about it. Throw the damn thing away if you don't want it."

Kenny studied the hardened chunk of clay. "What the fuck is it supposed to be?"

"It's a deer."

"It doesn't look like a deer."

"Yes it does. That is clearly a deer."

"Maybe a deer that got hit by a truck."

"Kenny!"

"I'm just _kidding_. Mostly."

Craig grabbed the clay deer from Kenny's open palm. "If you don't want it, don't take it, jackass."

"I didn't _say_ I didn't want it."

Kenny made a grab for the deer, but Craig held it high above his head. "Well maybe I don't want to give it to you anymore."

" _Craig_!" Kenny whined. "I want it _back_."

"Then take it and shut up."

Kenny snatched the clay animal and hugged it to his chest possessively. He grinned up at Craig. "You know, giving me cheesy, sentimental gifts totally makes you my boyfriend."

"It does not."

"Agree to disagree."

" _Kenny_ ," Craig warned.

"Craig," Kenny retorted, cradling the clay animal in his hands. He looked down at the misshapen deer. "You know, he's kind of cute, really."

"You're making fun of me."

"I am not. I like it. Really."

Craig rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It's just a stupid art project."

"I'm gonna name him Craig Jr. after you."

"Don't you dare."

Kenny held the clay deer up to his face. "Hello there, Craig Jr. Would you like to live on the nightstand beside my bed? I think you'll like it there."

"Kenny, fucking _stop it_."

"You know who's never been in my bedroom? Craig Sr. He hasn't gotten into my bed yet."

"That's not funny, you little shit."

Kenny put his mouth to the clay deer's ear as if telling it a secret. "But he really wants to," he whispered loudly. "He acts like I annoy the shit out of him, but he's totally into me."

"You're a dick, Kenny."

"He says that, but he secretly kind of likes me."

* * *

On Friday morning, the eve of Craig's eighteenth birthday, Kenny was waiting for him by his locker. Craig couldn't help but grin at the sight of him, leaning against the locker with his arms folded across his ratty old backpack, absently chewing the inside of his lip. He felt a sudden surge of affection as he sidled up to the blond.

"Hi," Kenny greeted him with a secretive smile.

Craig nodded nonchalantly, dialing this locker combination.

Kenny licked his lips, and Craig's eyes flickered down at them momentarily. "I got you something," Kenny said, unzipping his backpack.

Craig smiled. "You didn't have to."

"I know," Kenny replied. He produced a small wooden picture frame from his backpack and handed it over.

It was a black and white photo of the two of them in biology class. Kenny was leaning over the lab table, pushing his thick blond hair off of his forehead. Craig was leaning over him, studying the open text book in front of them.

"I stole it off Jimmy's flash drive," Kenny explained. "He took it during class for the school paper, back when we were doing the fruit fly lab. I thought you might like it, since that's when we started…you know." He smiled sheepishly. "I didn't know what to get you."

Craig grinned. "Kenny, this is great."

Kenny smiled. "Well, I have something else for you too."

"Ken, you didn't have to…"

Kenny waved his objection away. "It's no big deal. My brother owed me a favor, so I got him to invite my parents over to his apartment for the weekend. And they're taking my sister, so I'll have the house to myself."

"Kenny McCormick, are you inviting me to stay over at your house?"

"Believe me, after an hour you'll be wondering why you wanted to." Kenny glanced over Craig's shoulder. "Stoley's coming this way. I'll see you in class."

"Yeah, see you," Craig replied, shoving the picture frame into his locker.

Without breaking eye contact, Kenny ran a hand through his hair, taking a few steps backwards before finally turning around and sauntering down the hallway.

"Sheesh, the hair on that guy," Kevin said in lieu of an actual greeting. "The _everything_ on that guy. Don't know if I want to be him or be _with_ him, you know?"

Craig forced himself not to smile. "No, I don't know," he replied in his usual monotone.

Kevin shrugged. "Well, whatever. I brought you a cupcake."

Craig accepted the pastry, chocolate with white frosting and a bright pink, unlit birthday candle stuck in the middle. "Thanks."

"So what are we doing for your birthday?" Kevin asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I'm…" Craig thought quickly. "Going to my mom's. All weekend."

Kevin frowned. "Lame. Well, maybe we can do something next weekend."

"What's next weekend?" Clyde asked, sidling up to Craig. "Ooh, cupcake!" he exclaimed, snatching the cupcake from Craig's hand and taking a bite. "Why's there a candle on it?"

* * *

"This isn't what I was expecting," Craig said, perching on the edge of Kenny's bed.

It wasn't much, to be honest. But still, the room had a certain charm to it. The twin bed was covered by a colorful quilt that appeared to be hand-stitched. The walls were adorned with posters of cars and half-naked women. On top of the dresser sat a radio, a framed picture of Kenny and his sister, and the sad-looking clay deer Craig had given him. The words _Eric Cartman was here_ were scratched into the side of his night stand. A photograph of Stan and Kyle wearing stupid hats and standing in front of a rollercoaster was stuck into the corner of his window pane. The room simply felt like it belonged to Kenny, Craig decided.

"I hate to ask, but what _were_ you expecting?"

Craig shrugged. "I don't know, like a bare mattress on the floor and a flickering light bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling."

"You're hilarious. At least it's _clean_."

"Your front door doesn't close," Craig pointed out.

"That's _Cartman's_ fault," Kenny replied, flicking on the space heater next to his bed. He bit his lip. "We don't have to stay here. It's not too late to just go to your house."

Craig felt a twinge of guilt creep up. "No, I want to be here," he said, grabbing Kenny by the hand and pulling him onto the bed beside him.

"Nobody ever comes here," Kenny admitted. "There isn't much to do."

"I bet we can think of a few things."

Kenny smiled. "That's true. There are things I do with you that I wouldn't think of doing with Cartman."

"I should hope not."

"Stan maybe."

" _Kenny_."

"Oh, relax, Craig. You know I'm all yours."

Craig's stomach flipped. He tore his eyes away from Kenny and reached down for his backpack.

"I, um, brought something for you."

"But it's _your_ birthday."

"I know," Craig said, pulling a CD in a clear plastic case from his bag. "I made it a while ago, I just couldn't decide what to write on it."

Kenny looked at the CD. "You didn't write anything on it."

"I know, I never decided."

Kenny shrugged accepting the CD. "You want to listen to it?"

"No," Craig replied firmly. The thought of Kenny listening to the CD at all mortified him. He'd rather not watch it happen. "You have to wait until after I leave."

Kenny grinned. "Oh my god, are you _embarrassed_? Are these a bunch of mushy love songs?"

"No, they're just songs I like. Don't be a dick."

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression that you _liked_ dick."

"Funny."

* * *

"I found an extra toothbrush for you," Kenny said, as Craig stepped out of the shower. "We can just leave it in the box. It can be yours for when you come over."

"You think I'll be here often enough to warrant having my own toothbrush here?" Craig asked, wrapping a towel around his waist. "You stay over at my house all the time and you don't have a toothbrush there."

"I should," Kenny replied, running a comb through his hair. "I've just been using yours."

"Sick, Kenny. I know where your mouth has been."

"Yeah, on you."

"Exactly," Craig said, squirting some toothpaste on his toothbrush. He narrowed his eyes as he lifted the toothbrush to his mouth. "Don't watch me brush my teeth, dude."

"Why not? I've watched you orgasm."

"Kenny…"

"Twenty minutes ago I came in your mouth."

Craig rolled his eyes and began to brush his teeth.

"Besides," Kenny said, slipping an arm around his waist, his fingers dipping just beneath the hem of Craig's towel. "I like a man with good oral hygiene."

"Mm, shay 'oral' again," Craig spat around a mouthful of toothpaste.

Kenny laughed. "Fuck off."

"Come on, Kenny, it'sh my birfday."

* * *

" _I know it's new, but this is real, and I'm afraid of what I feel_ ," the singer crooned from Kenny's CD player.

He was trying his hardest not to read into it. Kenny knew he had a problem with reading too far into things when it came to Craig. But somehow the words in the song sounded like Craig was speaking them directly to him. He lay back on his pillow, folding his hands behind his head.

" _It's hard for me to feel this way about anyone_ …"

It was stupid to think that the words were a reflection of Craig's own feelings. It was just a stupid mix CD. Craig had said himself, they were just some songs he liked.

It was hard to keep telling himself, after all they'd been through together, that Craig didn't have some real feelings for Kenny. And if anyone was the type of person to push down his feelings, it was Craig. So maybe it wasn't that Craig didn't want a relationship. Maybe he was just afraid to try.

"What are you listening to?"

Kenny lifted his head up to see his sister standing in his doorway.

"Hey Karen," he greeted as she strolled into the room. "Just a mix CD someone made for me."

" _How do you feel about me_?" the singer asked.

Karen raised an eyebrow. "Someone who's in love with you?" she asked, taking a seat on her brother's bed.

Kenny let out an indignant snort. "No. It's just a CD they threw together."

Karen rolled her eyes. "Have you ever made someone a mix CD? You don't just throw them together. You put thought into them. And the thought behind this song is…"

" _I lay my cards out on the table. Surrender all my words_."

"That."

"Well not everyone thinks like a fifteen-year-old girl, Karen. Some people don't put feeling into anything."

"Okay, well who is this unfeeling person who just threw together a random mix CD for you?"

"Just someone in my class. A friend."

Karen narrowed her eyes. "Don't lie, Kenny. I know you used your favor from Kevin so you could have someone stay here over the weekend."

" _This is not a simple answer I am bound to understand. It's just I shuddered when I kissed you and I trembled in your hands."_

Karen crossed her arms and stared at her brother pointedly.

"You really think this means something?"

His sister grinned like she'd won. "You want it to, don't you?"

Kenny sighed. "Yeah, I do."

* * *

 _Ding-Dong!_

"Dad! Door!" Craig shouted, pulling a few old T-shirts from his closet. He glanced at his doorway as his dad shuffled by before discarding the old shirts into a trash bag.

His talk with Kenny last week had been somewhat of a wakeup call. It really had been too long since he'd cleaned his room. The trash bag was already half full just from crap he'd uncovered under his bed. It really was time to declutter. And to purge his room of all things Sean once and for all.

For his own peace of mind, he told himself, and not for Kenny's.

Sean had no hold over him anymore. He couldn't control him anymore. The fear that Sean had instilled in him that kept him from ever trusting another person was no longer a constant presence in the back of his mind. Now there was only Kenny.

He smiled to himself, clutching the trash bag as he walked across his room and began clearing off his desk. There was nothing holding him back anymore.

"You're cleaning your room?"

Craig looked up to see his dad standing in the doorway, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Yeah."

"You're smiling." His dad stepped inside. "You're not on drugs, are you?"

Craig raised an eyebrow. "What the fuck, Dad?"

"That wasn't a 'no'."

" _No_."

His dad shrugged. "Had to make sure."

"Because I'm smiling?"

"Because you haven't cleaned your room in three years. And because you haven't been yourself lately."

Craig rolled his eyes. "You want a urine sample? Blood sample?"

"No, I believe you." His dad crossed the room. "I never thought I'd have to worry about that kind of thing with you. Because you're smart, you know?" He perched on the side of Craig's bed. "But now I'm finding out there are drugs out there _for_ smart kids. Just when you think you've got this parenting thing figured out, they find a way to make it harder."

"I'm not on Adderall, Dad," Craig assured him. He picked up the old birthday card from Sean on his desk and shoved it in the trash bad. "I'm just getting rid of junk I don't need anymore."

His dad sighed. "If you say so. The door's for you, by the way."

"Jesus, Dad," Craig muttered, setting his trash bag on the floor. "Don't go through my shit," he ordered, hustling out of the room.

He hoped it was Kenny. His reaction to Craig's clean room was sure to be better than his dad's.

He hurried to the front door and swung it open. "Sorry, Kenny, my dad thinks I'm on…"

He trailed off when he realized it wasn't Kenny at the door, but a handsome man in his mid-twenties, almost as tall as Craig, with soft brown eyes and a thick beard.

"Hi, Craig," the man said with a smile.

Craig's heart dropped. "Sean."


	8. Reformulating Hypothesis

This chapter contains mentions of statutory rape and emotional abuse of a minor, and descriptions of a panic attack.

 **Practical Applications of the Scientific Method**

 **Chapter 8: Reformulating Hypothesis**

Just before Craig's fifteenth birthday, word got around that Annie Nelson's older brother, home from college on winter break, was throwing a kegger. Annie's family owned a ranch on the outskirts of town, miles away from the nearest neighbor, so the party was sure to be loud and unsupervised. Naturally, Craig's friends made a unanimous decision to go. Also naturally, Craig did not get a vote. So, armed with Clyde's father's Prius and Tweek's shiny new learner's permit, the boys dragged Craig to the party, where he vowed to have no fun whatsoever.

And then Craig discovered college guys.

Amidst the hordes of drunken hormonal teenagers, there were _men_. Men with biceps and stubble and deep voices. Men with styled hair and fashion sense. Men far too mature and sophisticated to pay any attention to silly high schoolers. Especially insecure closet cases like Craig.

Bebe led Clyde upstairs as soon as they arrived, and the rest of Craig's friends disappeared into the crowd soon after. Craig, was fine with finding a spot on the couch a safe distance away from the group of college guys and ogling them from afar.

One of the men—a tan frat boy with barely defined abs—had taken off his kappa sigma t shirt halfway through a game of beer pong. As Craig eyed the frat boy, wondering whether one could really get overheated playing beer pong or this guy just liked being shirtless, another college guy approached him.

He was a handsome, clean-shaven man, with light brown hair that curled out just slightly behind his ears and rectangular, black-framed glasses.

"I hope for your sake that you're just window shopping, because Brandon doesn't swing that way."

His voice was smooth, his tone so confident it bordered on arrogant.

Craig choked. "What? I wasn't… I'm not _gay_ , you psycho."

The handsome guy laughed, a deep, pleasant laugh, taking the seat beside Craig. "Hey, it's ok, your secret's safe with me."

Craig eyed the stranger warily. "What, do you have like a sixth sense?"

"You're not exactly subtle."

Craig took offense to that. "I am too." Craig was a brick wall.

"And it's not a sixth sense. It's a defense mechanism. You have to be able to spot your own kind."

"Well maybe I'm counting on them spotting me. Since I'm not exactly subtle."

"Trust me, you'll figure it out," the guy assured him. "You're just a sprout."

"Hey, I'm fifteen," Craig shot back defensively.

"Do you always get worked up this easily?"

Craig crossed his arms, his blood rushing to his face. "No. I take great pride in my apathy."

"Too bad," the handsome guy replied. "That color looks good on you."

Craig licked his lips but didn't reply.

"I'm Sean," the handsome stranger said.

"Craig."

They ended up talking all night. Tweek—the only one of Craig's friends with real driving experience—was, of course, drunk within an hour of arriving, so the boys had no choice but to crash there for the night. Kevin passed out on the stairway. Token had all his clothes stolen after a shameful game of strip poker and ended up sleeping in the bathtub, wrapped in a shower curtain. Clyde didn't emerge from his room with Bebe until the next morning.

He was tight-lipped the rest of the weekend about whether he'd lost his virginity that night, which, of course, meant that he hadn't. Craig hadn't either, and he didn't lose it the following weekend he spent with Sean, or the weekend after that. The fourth weekend, though, Sean got them a motel room, and they spent the entire night making love.

And that was what it felt like. Sean took his time, making sure Craig enjoyed every minute of it. He never felt uncomfortable, never felt ignored, and most importantly, never felt unwanted. At fifteen, Craig couldn't fathom what an older, handsome, intelligent guy like Sean could see in someone like him.

At eighteen, looking back, Craig knew exactly what Sean had seen in him. A vulnerable, inexperienced boy who would do anything to please him. And _fuck_ had he.

It was incredible how seeing Sean now did nothing but make him want to disappear. His skin tingled, but in an unpleasant way, not the way it had when Sean first touched him. His breathing felt labored, but not the way it caught in his throat the first time Sean kissed him. His hands trembled, but not the way they had the first time Sean fucked him.

"You got tall," Sean commented, as Craig stared at him from the doorway, bile rising in his throat.

"You got hairy."

Sean rubbed his beard. "Yeah, I grew it out."

It looked good, but Craig wasn't about to admit that. Craig was a brick wall. He took great pride in his apathy. He felt like he was on fire.

"I was hoping we could talk," Sean said. "You wanna go for a ride?"

* * *

"I wanted to come see you on your birthday. Sorry I couldn't make it out."

Craig gazed out the window, refusing to meet Sean's eyes. He counted windows on houses as they drove through the quaint neighborhoods of South Park. It was all he could do to keep himself grounded. His breathing felt almost back to normal. "Figured you'd have lost interest," he said, "seeing as how I'm legal now."

"You know age doesn't matter to me," Sean replied, and Craig rolled his eyes.

"That's what predators say."

"Is that how you remember me? As a predator?"

"Isn't that what you'd call a twenty-two-year-old who exploits the naiveite of a fifteen-year-old for sex?"

"Wow, Craig. You really think I was only interested in sex? Was that all it was for you?"

Craig gritted his teeth. That was exactly like Sean. He knew there was no point in arguing. Anything Craig said in his own defense, Sean would turn around on him somehow. He was a master at casting doubt on Craig's perception of their relationship. The two had had a massive fight when Craig found a graphic love letter from another guy in Sean's glove box, and by the end of the night, Sean had somehow gotten _Craig_ to apologize.

Of course, it was a difficult thing for Craig to just let go, but anytime he brought up his insecurities over the matter, Sean just laid on the guilt trip. How did Craig ever expect to get past this if he didn't forgive and forget? How did Craig expect them to have a stronger relationship if he couldn't show a little trust? Then he'd imply that maybe Craig just wasn't mature enough for this relationship, and Craig would bend over backwards trying to prove to Sean that he could handle it. Ultimately, he couldn't handle it, and Sean decided that Craig was more trouble than he was worth.

He let out a deep breath, finally turning to face his ex-boyfriend.

"Why did you come here, Sean?"

Sean sent him an incredulous look, like the answer should have been obvious. "Because I missed you."

It had taken months after their breakup for Craig to give up hope that Sean would ever say those words. Longer still to stop wishing for it. And it had taken _years_ for Craig to see their relationship for what it really was.

"Missed what exactly? Controlling me? Manipulating me into doing things I wasn't ready for by telling me, well maybe I'm just not _mature_ enough to be with a college guy. Which I wasn't. Obviously I wasn't, I was fucking _fifteen_."

Sean gripped the steering wheel. "You need to stop shouting and placing blame, Craig. That's not productive."

Craig was not a brick wall. Fuck apathy. Craig did _not_ feel indifferent towards Sean. Craig _hated_ Sean.

"Really? Because it feels pretty damn good."

"We both did…regrettable things."

"Yeah, I kind of regret not getting you arrested. What do you regret?"

Sean shook his head. "You know, I was hoping we could both be adults about this. There's no point in being angry about things that happened years ago."

Craig laughed. "Angry? No, Sean, this is worse than anger. This is me seeing you for what you really are."

"Which is?"

"A con man."

"Con man," Sean repeated.

"Yes, Sean. A grifter. A con artist. A confidence man. One who gains someone's confidence in order to manipulate them into acting against their own self-interest."

Sean sighed. "Craig, I thought I could fix the way we ended things."

"The way you ended things."

"The way _I_ ended things," Sean conceded. "I thought now that you're eighteen, you'd be ready for this. And I could give you what you wanted."

Craig stared at the dashboard. "What I wanted three years ago. I have what I want now."

"You mean Kenny?"

Craig furrowed his brow. "How do you know about Kenny?"

"That's what you called me when you answered the door. Like you were expecting someone else."

"Yeah, well…" Craig trailed off, staring out the windshield as Sean drove toward the more poverty-stricken side of town. Kenny's side of town. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in Kenny's arms and pretend Sean didn't exist.

"You have a picture of him?"

Craig turned to Sean suspiciously. "Why?"

Sean shrugged. "Just because we're not together I can't show an interest in your life?"

Craig sighed warily, but reached into his back pocket for his phone. He had a copy of the picture from Jimmy's stolen flash drive in a fake calculator app on his phone. It was how he kept private pictures hidden from anyone who might want to peruse through his camera roll.

He located the picture and held his phone out for Sean to see.

"Lab partners?" Sean asked, veering over the median line as he took Craig's phone.

"Yeah," Craig replied, grabbing the steering wheel.

"He's cute," Sean commented.

"I know."

"And kudos to him for putting that whole scientific method to practical use."

Craig's frown deepened. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Sean laughed. "I've met enough bicurious posers to know one when I see one. And who better to experiment with than your lab partner? Seems fitting."

Craig snatched his phone back. "Is this another one of your mind games? Because it's one I'm not familiar with."

"Come on, Craig, I'm just pointing out the obvious. I'm not saying it's a bad thing. Kids your age _should_ be experimenting."

Craig shook his head, returning his gaze to the passenger side window. "I think I've had enough. You can drop me off here."

Sean slowed the car. "Are you sure, Craig? This doesn't seem like a good neighborhood."

"It's fine. I've lived in this town my whole life."

"I can take you back home."

"I really want out of this car, Sean."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I know someone who lives nearby."

* * *

"What's a gerund?" Karen asked, chewing on the end of her pencil. "Is it a noun or a verb?"

She was on her stomach on the floor of her brother's bedroom, kicking her feet back and forth in the air, her English homework spread out in front of her.

"Karen, you know I suck at English," Kenny replied, sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed, his eyes fixed on his own homework.

Karen groaned. "If I fail another assignment I'm gonna have to go to a parent-teacher conference with Mom and Mrs. Andrews."

"Just do what I do."

"Copy Stan's assignments?"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Get your own Stan."

"How am I supposed to convince some sucker to do my homework for me?"

Kenny shrugged. "It can't be that hard. Use your feminine wiles or whatever."

"I don't _have_ feminine wiles, Ken."

"You're a McCormick."

"Is that how you got Stan to let you cheat off him?"

"Yes, Karen," Kenny replied dryly. "I have Stan eating out of the palm of my hand."

"Now the only question is, who did you seduce to pull that B in biology?"

"I'm taking that one with me to my grave."

Karen opened her mouth to reply, but the two were startled by a soft knock coming from Kenny's doorway. They looked up to see an apprehensive Craig standing just inside his bedroom. His hands were shaking.

"Craig?" Kenny said, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. "Are you okay?"

Craig shook his head.

Karen clapped her hands together awkwardly. "I'm gonna go," she said, flipping her textbook shut and jumping onto her feet. She brushed past Craig as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Craig licked his lips. He was breathing hard, like he'd run all the way there.

"Craig, what happened?" Kenny asked.

Craig swallowed. "Can we not talk about it? Can you just hold me?"

Kenny wanted to press further, but he just nodded and patted the bed beside him. Craig took long strides, crossing the room in a few steps and collapsing on Kenny's bed like he was too exhausted to hold himself up a second longer. Kenny curled up behind him, lying his head on one arm and wrapping the other around Craig's lanky frame. He could feel the other boy's rapid heartbeat like it was in his own chest.

"Can I do anything to make it better?" Kenny whispered.

"You are," Craig replied.

Kenny wasn't sure about that, but Craig had stopped shaking, so he took that as a good sign. His heartrate slowed soon after, and his breathing became lighter, until it faded into a soft snore.

* * *

"Mind if I sit?"

Craig looked up to see Kenny standing over him with a tight smile. He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's a big couch."

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay," he said, flopping down on the couch beside him. "Pretend you're not dying to be near me. That's fine."

Craig couldn't help but crack a smile. The truth was, it _was_ nice to have Kenny there with him, even if he wasn't allowed to say so with all the horny teenagers dancing around them.

"So Token throws this awesome birthday party for you," Kenny said, leaning back on the couch, "and you spend the whole night on the couch determined not to have any fun. Is that how it works?"

"This party is _not_ for me," Craig replied. "Token just loves throwing parties and my birthday was an excuse. He knows I hate them."

"How can anyone hate parties?"

"Houses filled with loud, drunk teenagers trying to fuck? Which part of that is supposed to appeal to me? You've met me, right?"

Kenny laughed. "In every conceivable way."

Craig raised an eyebrow. "Well, not _every_ way."

"Fuck off, Craig, you know I'm not ready for that."

Craig flipped him off. "That's not what I meant, you perv."

"Ah. You mean whatever was bothering you the other day that you still refuse to tell me about."

Craig didn't want to think about Sean. He was still shaken up by the sudden appearance, and he just wanted things to go back to normal. He sighed, glancing around the room. He _really_ hated parties.

"Hey, do you want to get out of here?"

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "Won't your friends notice you're gone?"

Craig shrugged. "Probably not. Maybe Kevin, but nobody listens to him."

"But it's _your_ birthday."

"My birthday was last week."

Kenny grinned. "I could go for some French toast."

* * *

"Kenny, I think this is the first weekend you've hung out with us since, like…" Stan's voice trailed off.

"Christmas?" Kyle guessed. "Maybe longer?"

Kenny shrugged. "I've been busy."

The truth was, the only reason Kenny wasn't "busy" now was that Craig was spending the weekend at his mom's house. He'd just become accustomed to spending all his free time with Craig, and after Craig had burst into his house a couple weeks earlier in what appeared to be a panic attack, Kenny was feeling especially protective of Craig. It was difficult _not_ to spend every spare minute with him.

"Busy with who?" Kyle asked. "We know it's not Red, since you blew her off at the New Year's party."

"I blew her off?" Kenny asked. "Was I supposed to stay with her?"

"Pretty sure she was expecting you to. At least that's what Bebe is telling people."

Kenny shrugged. "Oops."

"So?" Kyle pressed. "Who are you fucking?"

"Who says I'm fucking anyone?"

"Aren't you?"

Kenny downed his can of soda.

"What are you doing next weekend?" Stan asked.

Kenny frowned. "Next weekend is Valentine's day."

"I know. It's my first time being single on Valentine's day. I thought maybe we could all hang out."

"Oh. Um…"

"It's fine if you already have plans."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Totally not fucking anyone."

Kenny shrugged. "Hey, I neither confirmed nor denied."

Stan sighed, standing up. "I'm gonna get another drink. Either of you want anything?"

"I'm good," Kenny replied.

"Coke please," Kyle said.

"Sure," Stan replied, walking toward the kitchen.

"In a glass," Kyle added quickly. "With ice."

"Sure."

"And a bendy straw!"

Stan raised an eyebrow. "I'll…see what I can do."

As Stan walked out of the room, Kenny turned to Kyle, perplexed. "What was that all about?"

Kyle winced, pulling his hair. "Valentine's Day," he whispered.

Kenny nodded. "I know, it's next week. Why are we whispering?"

"Because I'm gonna lose the bet!"

Kenny laughed. "Shit, I forgot about that."

"Shh!" Kyle hissed. "I don't want Stan to find out."

"Well he's gonna find out when the bet's over anyways."

"Exactly. Right after being single for the first time ever on Valentine's Day, Stan finds out that his best friend has been betting on his love life. You know Stan is sensitive."

"Yeah, it's adorable. Didn't you think about that before you made the stupid bet?"

"I didn't think I'd lose!"

Kenny shrugged. "So what now?"

"You have to help me!"

Kenny shook his head. "I'm not trying to get Stan and Wendy back together."

Kyle pouted.

"No, Kyle. You and Cartman are the meddlers. My role is to sit back and watch you two fuck things up."

"Do it for Stan? For his adorable, sensitive feelings."

Kenny sighed. "I could try to help you break it to him in a gentler way."

"Kenny you're the best," Kyle replied, diving forward for a hug.

Kenny patted Kyle's back awkwardly for a moment before pulling back, just as Stan re-entered the room holding two plain cans of Coke.

"Quit being gay you two," he muttered, sitting next to Kyle and handing him a can.

"I don't even get ice?"

* * *

"You know, you don't actually have to do anything special for me on Valentine's Day," Craig said, leaning back against the torn pleather passenger seat of Stuart McCormick's pickup truck. "It's just a fake holiday for straight people."

"Shut up, I like Valentine's Day," Kenny responded. "It's _nice_ to tell someone they're special to you."

"Well I've never celebrated it."

Kenny laughed. "But you've had boyfriends."

"I've had _a_ boyfriend," Craig corrected him. "And we didn't spend Valentine's Day together."

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "You know, if he didn't spend it with _you_ he was probably…"

"I've considered that, yeah," Craig cut him off.

Kenny took that as a cue to drop it, opting to turn up the radio in lieu of conversation for the rest of the ride.

When they arrived at their destination, a motel on the outskirts of town, Craig seemed to stiffen.

"A motel?"

"Yeah, well, since both of our parents are home tonight," Kenny said, his voice trailing off as he pulled into a parking spot.

Kenny wasn't sure why, but there was something off about Craig's reaction. Sure, it wasn't exactly the Ritz, but he'd been to Kenny's home on multiple occasions, so he couldn't really have expected more than a cheap room. He shifted the truck into park, slightly disheartened.

"I know it's not much…"

"No," Craig cut in immediately. "This is the best Valentine's date anyone's ever taken me on."

He knew it was meant to make him feel better, but Craig's words, paired with his forced smile, only made Kenny's attempt at being romantic feel like more of a failure. He smiled tightly, pulling the key from the ignition. "Shall we?" he said, holding up the key card.

Kenny led Craig to their room, a standard one-bed motel room with a small bathroom and a closet with hangers designed not to come off the rod. All in all, it was a pretty nice room for Kenny's budget. Aside from being a little chilly, which Craig amended by immediately kicking on the thermostat as soon as he walked in.

"I know it's not much," Kenny said once again, dropping his backpack onto the floor.

"Shut up," Craig replied. "I don't care about the room."

"I just wanted to make this day special."

Craig grabbed Kenny by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "It is."

He said it with such sincerity that Kenny actually felt reassured this time. He smiled, sliding his hands into Craig's hair and pulling the taller boy down into a kiss. When he pulled away, he was filled with such affection and trust for Craig that he didn't have to think about it before blurting, "Do you wanna fuck me?"

Craig's eyes widened. "Kenny, I meant it when I said this is special. You don't have to do anything else."

"I know," Kenny said, sliding his hands down into Craig's. "Do you?"

Craig blinked. "Well yeah."

Kenny smiled, licking his lips nervously. "Okay then."

He let go of Craig's hands, walking over to where he'd dropped his backpack and producing a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. He returned to Craig, holding out the items awkwardly.

"Um," he said.

"Here," Craig said gently, taking the condoms and lube from Kenny's hands and setting them on the bed. "Sit down."

Kenny did as instructed, perching on the very edge of the bed. Craig placed his hands on Kenny's hips and slid him back so that he was sitting on the bed properly before leaning down to kiss him. Kenny relaxed into the kiss, allowing Craig to guide him back until he was lying flat on his back, with the taller boy straddling his hips. They made out like this for a while, only pausing briefly for Craig to pull Kenny's shirt over his head before they both worked on the buttons of Craig's. Kenny stretched his neck forward to recapture Craig's lips as the other boy tossed his shirt onto the floor. He was already half hard at this point, but when he felt Craig smile into the kiss, his braces scraping against Kenny's lips, he became instantly erect. He let out a low groan, popping open the button of Craig's jeans. Craig took the hint and shimmied off his pants as he began to trail kisses down Kenny's chin and onto his pale chest. Kenny threw his head back as Craig worked his way down Kenny's torso all the way to the hem of his jeans, doing away with those as well before taking Kenny's throbbing erection into his mouth. Kenny pinched his eyes closed, his breathing growing heavy.

Craig bobbed up and down on Kenny's cock a few times, before taking it into his hand and kissing down the crevice of his thigh and around the curve of his ass. Kenny let out an embarrassingly loud cry as Craig flicked his tongue onto his asshole.

"You okay?" Craig asked.

Kenny bit his lip and nodded, and Craig went back to work tonguing Kenny's asshole.

When all the sensations began to feel too intense for him, Kenny tugged gently on Craig's hair. Craig stopped what he was doing and crawled back up the bed, lying down on his side next to Kenny.

"You okay?" he asked once more, placing a gentle kiss on Kenny's ear.

Kenny let out a heavy breath. "Yeah."

"Are you sure about this?"

Kenny turned his head to face Craig, placing a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him into a hard kiss. Craig bit Kenny's bottom lip gently and rubbed their noses together before whispering, "Turn over."

Kenny swallowed hard before rolling over, positioning himself on his hands and knees. Craig placed a kiss on his shoulder before disappearing from his field of view. He held his breath as he heard the bottle of lube pop open and felt Craig positioning himself behind him.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Craig whispered, kissing the small of Kenny's back. He rubbed a cold, lubricated finger against Kenny's hole and Kenny let out a sharp hiss.

"What's wrong?"

"It's cold."

"Oh." Craig let out a shaky laugh. "S-sorry."

Kenny whipped his head around. "Are you nervous? You're not supposed to be nervous. I'm the only one allowed to be nervous right now."

Craig glared. "Shut up, Kenny. I've never fucked anyone so pretty before. Give me a break."

He rubbed his fingers together to warm up the lube a bit before pressing his middle finger in. It felt strange and foreign, but not painful. Kenny clenched around it.

"You have to relax," Craig said, rubbing circles into Kenny's hip. "It will hurt more if you don't relax."

Kenny let out a shaky breath and tried to do as he was told, but it was easier said than done. Craig's gentle massage and soothing murmurs helped a bit, as he worked one finger in and out, eventually moving to two.

"Is this okay?" Craig asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you ready?"

Kenny took a deep breath. "Yeah."

Craig drew his hand away, and Kenny heard the tearing of a blister pack, followed by the popping of the lube bottle again. A few seconds later, he felt Craig behind, him, his cock sliding between his ass cheeks a few times before pressing inside.

This time it hurt. The splitting pain seemed to radiate into his hips and lower back. Whatever was left of his erection was long gone. He clenched again on instinct, and Craig stopped pushing in. He placed his hands on Kenny's waist and stroked his lower back with the pads of his thumbs.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Kenny shook his head. "No," he grunted, trying to will his body to relax. "Keep going."

Craig waited for him to loosen up, stroking his nails lightly up and down his back. Once Kenny managed to steady his breathing, Craig pushed all the way in slowly, before stopping and leaning Kenny's body, placing a kiss on the other boy's shoulder. "Here," he whispered, cupping his hands over Kenny's and sliding them up the bed. "Lie down."

Kenny allowed Craig to guide him down until his chest and face were pressed against the pillow, Craig's body flush against his back, and to his amazement, the pain in his back seemed to melt away.

"Is that better?" Craig asked.

"A lot better."

Craig pressed a kiss to the shell of Kenny's ear before pulling out slowly. It hurt, but not as intensely as before, and as Craig pulled out and pushed back in, out and in, steadily picking up the pace, Kenny found it easier and easier to relax, until the friction was almost pleasurable. His erection was slowly coming back, pressed into the mattress.

"Kenny," Craig whispered, threading his fingers through Kenny's. "You're so beautiful."

Kenny gripped Craig's fingers in response, and Craig pulled out almost entirely, stretching forward as far as he could to go in for a kiss. Kenny turned his head to oblige, and Craig pushed back in as their lips collided.

He pulled out completely this time, letting go of Kenny's hands and placing a kiss between his shoulder blades before moving back to the foot of the bed. He guided Kenny's hips into the air, until his knees were bent at ninety degrees, before pushing slowly back in, and from this new angle, Craig hit a nerve inside Kenny that made him cry out.

Craig squeezed his hands tight around Kenny's thighs. "Was that a good yell or a bad yell?"

"Good yell, good yell," Kenny breathed.

Craig drove back in and hit the spot again, eliciting another gasp from Kenny.

"There?"

"There!"

"Fuck, Kenny," Craig grunted.

They continued this way for several minutes, until Craig's thrusts became erratic and Kenny's cock throbbed, dripping and untouched between himself and the mattress.

"Craig," he whispered.

"K-Kenny."

"Please touch me."

"Shit," Craig muttered, as if, during all his excitement, he'd forgotten all about Kenny's penis.

He reached his hand around, still slick with lube, and grasped Kenny's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Kenny moaned. The combination of his dick being touched and Craig hitting that sweet spot over and over, not to mention just the pure eroticism of it all, was almost overstimulating.

"I'm gonna cum," he whispered.

"Fuck."

"Cum with me."

His words did the trick, as Kenny knew they would. With one final thrust, Craig's hips stalled as he spilled into the condom. Kenny followed suit soon after, shooting his load onto the stiff floral comforter.

"We probably should have pulled off the blankets," he muttered breathlessly.

Only as Craig was pulling out did Kenny realize how tender he was. He winced at the sensation as Craig crawled up next to him and coaxed him onto his side.

"How do you feel?" he asked, wrapping his arms around Kenny and kissing the back of his head.

It was a hard question to answer. Kenny was feeling a lot of things, from the aching in his lower back to his parched throat. But mostly he felt safe, wrapped up in Craig's arms.

"I feel good," he said finally.

* * *

Craig woke up to the sound of running water, the feeling of empty space beside him on the bed, and a crippling sense of déjà vu. He blinked groggily and noted that there was no longer light streaming in through the gap in the curtain. He fumbled around in the dark for his jeans, which he found hanging precariously off the edge of the bed, and located his phone in the back pocket. The screen lit up to inform him that it was February 14, 11:16 PM, and that he had one unread text message.

He opened the message, squinting as the screen lit up his face. _Happy Valentine's Day. Xoxo._

He'd deleted the number from his contacts years ago, but he still recognized the number as Sean's. He stared at the message until he heard the water shut off, then he promptly deleted the text and set his phone down on the bed beside him.

The bathroom door swung open, light streaming into the room, and Kenny stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Hey, you're awake," he greeted him, limping over to the bed. "I wanted to let you sleep."

"Did you? Sleep?"

"A little," Kenny replied, pulling off his towel and bending forward to rub it over his head. He dropped the towel on the floor and stood back up, whipping his damp hair back as he did. "Still sore, you know?"

Craig stared at the naked and glistening Kenny with a smile. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

"Yeah, you keep saying," Kenny said, climbing onto the bed and straddling Craig. "So are you."

Craig rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Shut up and take the compliment," Kenny replied leaning forward and kiss his neck. Craig sighed happily, as Kenny kissed beneath his chin, behind his ear, between his collarbones. He closed his eyes and Kenny continued to nip and suck at his neck.

"Don't leave any marks, okay?" Craig whispered. "Ow!"

Kenny sat up, dazed. "Sorry. I got a little…overzealous."

"Ya think?" Craig replied, rubbing his neck. "Did you leave a hickey?"

Kenny shrugged. "It's too dark in here to tell."

Craig nudged Kenny off of him before stumbling out of bed, making his way to the bathroom. Kenny followed close behind, still limping slightly.

Craig looked in the bathroom mirror to see a dark bruise already forming just above his collarbone. He sighed, rubbing his neck.

"Do you know how tacky this looks?"

"I'm sorry," Kenny replied sheepishly. He stepped up behind Craig, standing on his toes and propping his chin up on Craig's shoulder. "It's not that bad."

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

Kenny sighed. "Well, you know, this whole secret relationship thing. I might occasionally feel compelled to mark my territory."

Craig's stomach tightened. "Your territory?"

"I didn't mean, like, that you're my _property_. Just, like…"

"Your boyfriend."

Kenny's reflection met Craig's eyes. "Well yeah."

Craig took a deep breath, planting his hands on the countertop. "Kenny," he said slowly. "Please tell me that you didn't let me fuck you because you thought it would make me want to be your boyfriend."

Kenny looked absolutely crushed. "No," he replied, his voice hollow. "I let you fuck me because I thought you already did want to be my boyfriend."

"Why would you think that?"

Kenny took a step back. "Because we spend all our time together? You have a toothbrush at my house. You made me a cheesy mix CD."

Craig turned down to the sink, unable to look at Kenny's expression any longer. "I was up front about what this was from the start."

Kenny swallowed. "You're right. This is all on me."

Craig remained in his spot in front of the bathroom sink as Kenny turned and walked back into the room, with as much dignity as someone still limping from just being fucked in the ass could. He didn't move as Kenny fumbled around the dimly lit room for his clothes and dressed as quickly as he could. He watched silently from the mirror as Kenny scooped up his dad's keys and walked out the motel room door.

Craig was a brick wall.


	9. Communication

**Practical Applications of the Scientific Method**

 **Chapter 9: Communication**

Kenny loosened the hood of his parka as he trudged up to Stan's front door. He rubbed his numb hands together for warmth before reaching for the doorbell.

Stan answered surprisingly quickly, holding out a twenty dollar bill.

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to pay me, Stan. For you, my services are free of charge."

Stan blushed. "We ordered a pizza," he explained, shoving the money into his pocket.

"Awesome. I haven't eaten," Kenny replied, following Stan inside.

The two went up to Stan's room, where Kyle and Cartman were sitting on the bed, eyes fixed on the TV as they tapped their X-Box controllers vigorously.

"Pizza?" Cartman asked.

"Nope," Stan replied. "Kenny."

"Goddamnit, Kenny, we thought you were pizza."

Kenny shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint."

"I thought you had a date," Stan said, sitting down beside Kyle.

"It ended early," Kenny explained vaguely, planting himself on the floor, leaning back against the wall.

"Did you sneak out while she was sleeping?" Cartman asked, eyes still locked on the TV screen. "That's sleezy even for you, Kenny."

"I didn't spend the night," Kenny replied.

"You didn't have sex," Kyle asked incredulously.

"Don't be dumb, Kahl. Of course they had sex. If a girl agrees to a date with Kenny, she's expecting sex."

"Do people actually say that?" Kenny asked. "Like, people only agree to date me because I'm a sure thing?"

"Well, that's using the word 'date' pretty loosely, but pretty much."

That stung, but Kenny chose not to show it. "You know how people like to sensationalize everything. For the record, I don't sleep with _everyone_ I go out with."

"So you _didn't_ have sex?" Kyle asked.

"No, we did."

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Who was this girl anyways?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not gonna see her again."

The doorbell rang. "That's the pizza," Stan said, standing back up.

"So Kenny," Cartman said, as Stan left the room. "I guess you and I both got lucky this Valentine's Day."

Kyle snorted. "You did not have sex, Cartman."

"Okay, first of all, you don't know that."

"Yes we do," Kenny said.

"And _secondly_ ," Cartman continued, ignoring Kenny. "I was talking about the fact that I won our bet, _Kahl_."

"Shit."

"That's right. Did you think I forgot or something? I never forget anything."

Kyle sighed. "All right, how much?"

"How much what?"

"How much money do I need to give you to make you forget about this bet?"

Cartman feigned surprised. "I'm shocked, Kahl. Does the integrity of our bet mean nothing to you?"

"No, not at all."

"Well I will not be paid off."

Kenny sighed. "Come on, Cartman, can't you just let this one go? It's just a stupid bet."

"Yeah, a stupid bet that _I_ won fair and square. Stan and Wendy didn't get back together before Valentine's Day, which means that _you_ …"

"You guys were betting on me?"

The three of them jumped at once, startled. Kenny turned to see Stan standing in the doorway, two pizza boxes stacked in his hands. He looked back at Kyle and Cartman.

Kyle sent Kenny a panicked look. Kenny cleared his throat.

"Um, yeah," he spoke up finally. "We did. I lost."

"What?" Kyle blurted.

" _What_?" Cartman repeated.

"Kyle didn't know," Kenny said quickly.

Stan set the pizzas down on his desk. "I can't believe you guys made a bet on my love life."

"But…at least Kenny was betting in your favor?" Kyle said uncertainly.

"How was that in my favor?" Stan retorted. " _I_ broker up with _her_. I don't want to be with Wendy!"

"Well obviously _Kenny_ is in idiot who thinks he knows Stan better than anyone," Cartman said, looking at Kyle pointedly.

Stan rolled his eyes, placing the pizza boxes on his desk. "Whatever. What were the stakes then?"

"Oh yeah." Kenny turned to Cartman. "What did we bet on?"

* * *

Cartman bumped Wendy deliberately as their drama class filed out of the auditorium for lunch, sending the contents of her backpack spilling onto the floor.

"Not cool, dude," Stan muttered, making brief eye contact with Wendy before bustling down the aisle behind his obese friend.

Wendy shook her head as she bent down to gather her things. They'd promised to stay friends after their breakup, but Wendy and Stan hadn't had an amiable interaction since New Years. Probably even before then, now that she thought about it. It was hard, their breakup. Not because she missed the relationship. She didn't. But she did miss Stan, and she hated the way everything had changed.

By the time she stood back up and zipped her backpack closed, the class was gone, save for one student sitting in the back row, staring vacantly at his hands.

"Hey Kenny," she greeted him, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "Not going to lunch?"

He looked up at her, startled. "No, I um, lost a bet with Cartman. It's not so fun to be around him, you know?"

"Understandable. It never is," she said, making her way to the back row. "You okay, Kenny? You don't seem like yourself lately. I mean, I know we haven't really spoken since Stan and I broke up, but…"

"I'm doing great."

Kenny's answer seemed disingenuous, but Wendy didn't want to force the matter. "I'm glad," she replied.

"What about you?" Kenny asked. "I heard about you and Token."

"Yeah. It's not really, like, public or anything, so…"

"Hey, say no more. My lips are sealed." Kenny drew his fingers across his mouth like he was zipping it closed.

Wendy shrugged. "I mean, Bebe knows, so it'll get out eventually."

"So are you two, like, boyfriend/girlfriend now, or…?"

Wendy shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "We haven't talked about it. I don't think I'm ready for that. I do like him…"

"And I heard the sex was phenominal."

Wendy gritted her teeth. "Fucking Bebe."

Kenny grinned. "Yeah, she's got a big mouth."

Wendy rolled her eyes.

"I also heard that, um." Kenny cleared his throat. "That Red thought she and I were gonna, like, get together? After the New Years party?"

Wendy waved her hand dismissively. "Don't even sweat it. She wasn't waiting for a marriage proposal. When it comes to guys like you, girls are expecting more of a no-strings hook-up."

Kenny's face fell. "Right."

Wendy instantly regretted her words. "I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong? I didn't mean anything by it. You just have a reputation…"

Kenny nodded. "No, I know. I just…" He rubbed the ball of his hand against his eye socket. "I was stupid for thinking this time would be any different."

Wendy furrowed her eyebrows. "With Red?

"No, not with Red, with…someone else."

"You don't have to tell me."

"I _can't_ tell you."

"A secret romance?" Wendy sat down next to Kenny. "Pretty exciting, but not usually the basis for a strong relationship."

Kenny sighed.

"Wendy, can I asked you something?"

"What is it?"

He looked up at her, tears forming in his eyes. "How did you get over Stan so quickly?"

Wendy's heart sank. "I wish I could help you, Kenny, honestly I do." She put an arm around him. "But I don't think I'll ever be over Stan. Not completely. He was my first love. But he didn't love me the way I loved him, so I had to move on."

Kenny squeezed his eyes shut and the tears escaped down his cheeks. "I just hate feeling like this. Like it was all for nothing."

Wendy rubbed his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting manner. "I'm sure it wasn't," she said, even though she wasn't sure at all.

"Kenny?" a male voice interrupted them.

The two of them looked up to see Craig approaching them cautiously.

Kenny turned away from Craig to wipe his eyes nonchalantly.

"I don't think this is a good time," Wendy said.

"I need to talk to Kenny," Craig replied. "We…did a biology assignment together."

Kenny took a deep breath and stood up. "We finished that assignment," he said. "We have nothing more to talk about."

* * *

"There are no security cameras in the parking lot, are there?" Kenny asked, unzipping his coat.

"Just one," Stan replied. "By the basketball court. So avoid that area."

Kenny nodded, handing his coat to Cartman. He stripped off his T-shirt. "And teachers?"

"None of them leave their classrooms for at least another hour."

"And Craig?"

"Goddamn it Kenny, the whole school is about to see your shriveled up wiener. Why the fuck do you care if Craig is one of them?" Cartman retorted. "Now quit stalling and take your secondhand pants off."

Stan blushed, looking away as Kenny's jeans dropped to the ground.

"No need to be modest, Stan. Like Cartman said, there's nothing here the entire school isn't about to see."

"Or haven't seen already," Cartman added.

Kenny huffed, removing his final article of clothing and flinging it apathetically at his friend.

"What the fuck, Kenny?" Cartman cried, stepping aside to avoid the flying boxer briefs.

"Okay, so Kyle's already heating up his car in the east parking lot," Stan said. "You just have to make it there."

Kenny held up his palms. "What, no one's gonna rub my shoulders while I jump up and down like Rocky?"

"Aw, rats, my hands are full. Stan, will you do the honors of rubbing Kenny down while he bounces around naked?"

Stan rolled his eyes. "Kenny, just go. It's fucking freezing out here."

"Fine, I'm going."

Kenny took a deep breath, wiggling his cold toes inside his sneakers before sprinting out from the wooded area and into the crowded parking lot.

He was met with howls and wolf whistles as he weaved his way through parked cars and confused students. His face would have been hot from embarrassment if it wasn't already stinging from the cold air. He cupped his junk in his hands as he ran, but when he noticed students starting to whip out their phones, he changed his mind and covered his face instead. He spread his fingers just wide enough to see, but it still wasn't ideal for peripheral vision, which was how he managed to bump into an unsuspecting classmate, knocking him to the ground.

"Fuck," Kenny cursed, stopping in his tracks. Sprawled on the ground before him was Tweek, surrounded by all of his friends. Craig included.

"Sorry, Tweek," he muttered, stepping forward to lend him a hand.

"Gah!" Tweek cried, scrambling backwards.

"Kenny, what the fuck?" Craig asked, kneeling down to help up his friend.

Kenny swallowed hard. "I lost a bet," he mumbled.

"Nice butt," Clyde commented.

"Thanks," Kenny replied awkwardly, before breaking back into a sprint. "I lost a bet!" he repeated, this time in a shout.

He ducked his head as he ran, avoiding the gazes and pointing fingers of his classmates and what he was ninety percent certain was the flash of Jimmy's Nikon.

By the time he finally tumbled naked into the backseat of Kyle's mom's Prius he was out of breath, heaving from the cold.

"You okay?" Kyle asked, tossing him a blanket.

"Naked and ashamed," Kenny panted. "Story of my life."

"Yeah, okay. Let's go get the guys. And your clothes. My mom would kill me if she knew you were naked back there."

"Kyle?" Kenny said, wrapping himself up in the red fleece blanket his friend had given him.

"Yeah, Ken?"

"You owe me so huge for this."

* * *

" _Hello?_ "

"Hey, Red," Kenny greeted, phone pressed to his ear as he paced around his living room.

" _Kenny? Why are you calling me?_ "

"I, um." Kenny rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I might have heard that you were trying to hook up with me on New Years."

" _Kenny McCormick, is this a booty call?_ "

Kenny chuckled. "That depends. Do you want it to be?"

" _I don't know. You already blew me off once._ "

"Yeah." Kenny perched on the arm of the couch. "Yeah, sorry about that."

" _Why did you_?" Red asked.

"The truth?" Kenny replied. "I had feelings for something else."

" _Had_?"

Kenny sighed. "Okay, I _have_ feelings for someone else. But if it makes you feel any better, I was recently rejected myself, so…"

" _Yeah, that makes me feel a little better._ "

Kenny laughed. He heard a light knocking on the front door, and he pushed himself off the edge of the couch, making his way across the room.

" _Anyways,_ " Red went on, " _now that I've seen you naked, I don't know what all the fuss was about_."

"Shut up, it was cold out," Kenny replied, pulling open the front door.

" _Oh yeah? So you think I'd appreciate your naked body more if I saw it under different circumstances?_ "

Kenny didn't reply. He just stared at the person standing in the doorway before him.

" _Kenny? Are you there? I was just kidding_."

"Can we talk?" Craig asked.

Kenny cleared his throat. "Uh, Red, I have to go."

" _Um. Okay. Is everything okay?_ "

"Yeah, I just have to go. Bye," Kenny said quickly, flipping his phone shut.

Craig licked his lips. "Take a walk with me?"

Kenny slipped his phone into his pocket. "You can come in," he replied. "My parents are gone. Parent-teacher conference."

Craig nodded and followed Kenny inside.

Kenny's heart raced as he led Craig to his bedroom, taking a seat on his bed. Craig hesitantly followed suit, leaving an uncomfortable gap between Kenny and himself.

"I'm a dick," he offered.

"Yeah, well."

Craig rubbed his hands on his jeans. "You were talking to Red?"

Kenny coughed. "Um. Yeah."

"Do you like her?"

"Does it matter?"

The look Craig sent him was so forlorn it bordered on pathetic. He scooted over, closing the gap between them. "What about us?"

Kenny pinched his eyes closed. "Us? You and I are nothing, Craig. That was my big take away from Valentine's Day."

He felt Craig's hand close around his.

"Kenny."

He sighed, opening his eyes to meet Craig's. "We want different things," he said.

"I want _you_ ," Craig replied.

* * *

"I wasn't expecting that," Craig said, unable to hold back a sated grin. "Like, ever again."

"Me neither."

Kenny wiped a hand across his forehead, the roots of his blond hair dark from sweat, his cheeks flushed pink. He was perfect. Craig reached across his own body to push a damp lock off the other boy's temple.

"I missed this."

Kenny let out a breathy laugh. "It's only been a couple days."

"That's a long time to go without talking to you, Ken."

It had been a long time since Craig had been in love. He'd forgotten how it felt. The fear of being completely at another's mercy matched only by the desire to never leave their side. For years he had only remembered the fear.

But this would be different, Craig knew. Kenny wasn't like Sean. He could trust Kenny.

"You are so beautiful," he said.

Kenny frowned, clearing his throat. "I need a shower."

"Okay, I'll join you."

"It's getting late."

Craig laughed. "It's like seven."

Kenny stood up, gathering scattered articles of clothes from his bedroom floor. "My parents will be home soon," he replied.

"Oh. Okay. You go ahead then."

Kenny handed him a bundle of clothes. "You should probably go."

Craig stared up at him, confused. "You're kidding."

"Sorry," Kenny said, avoiding his gaze. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"You're serious."

Kenny just gave him a tight-lipped smile before walking toward the door.


	10. Conclusion

Final chapter!

Practical Applications of the Scientific Method

Chapter 10: Conclusion

"I want to ask Wendy out officially," Token said, as Craig trudged alongside him. "I just don't know if she's ready. And I don't want to scare her off."

"Yeah," Craig replied half-heartedly. He was preoccupied with his own problems, but Token didn't seem to notice.

"I mean, on one hand, we definitely have a connection. I know she likes me. But at the same time, she kind of has this wall up, you know?"

"Yeah."

He wondered if it was truly over between him and Kenny. He wasn't sure what the previous night was supposed to have been. He'd gone to Kenny's house to make up, but when Kenny kicked him out, it felt more like a goodbye. Maybe he'd blown it one too many times. Maybe Kenny didn't want to be with him anymore.

"Do you think she'd say yes?" Token asked.

"No," Craig responded automatically.

Token stopped at his locker, shooting his friend a glare. "Gee, Craig, thanks for the load of confidence."

"I mean, did you want confidence or honesty?"

Token sighed, dialing his combination.

The tragic thing was, Craig really did want to be with Kenny. From that first awkward kiss in Craig's living room, Kenny had him. But somehow fear kept getting the better of him and he couldn't stop himself from pushing Kenny away time and time again.

"I just mean… There are some relationships that just stick with people. You know, it makes them approach dating differently for the rest of their lives."

"This coming from the guy who's never had a girlfriend."

Craig shrugged. "You're the one who came to me for dating advice."

"Well who else am I gonna talk to?" Token asked, opening his locker. "Clyde?"

"There's always Tweek," Craig suggested, nodding toward the blond boy across the hallway who was resting his head on the floor of his open locker. He wrinkled his nose. "Or you could get cooler friends, bro."

Token laughed, pulling a text book from in his locker. Craig raised an eyebrow when he noticed a photo sticking out from beneath Token's stack of books. He reached into the locker and pulled out the picture.

"Is this Kenny's ass?"

Token laughed. "Clyde took it yesterday, after Kenny knocked over Tweek."

"And he had it _printed_?"

"He said something about playing a joke on him."

"That's stupid," Craig grunted.

"Stupider than steaking through the school parking lot?"

Craig shrugged, stuffing the photo into his pocket. "Whatever. I should go, man. I have something I need to do."

Token closed his locker. "Right now? But what about my problem?"

"Tweek!" Craig called across the hall.

Tweek lifted his head and turned around, dazed.

"How much do you know about girls?" Craig asked.

Tweek blinked. "Um. Nothing?"

"So same as me," Craig noted, clapping Token on the shoulder. "Good talk," he said, before darting down the hall.

* * *

Between third and fourth periods, Kenny arrived at his locker to find that it had been Scotch taped shut and plastered with photos of his own ass. He'd been so distracted all night thinking about Craig that by the time he got to school that morning he'd almost forgotten his naked escapades outside the school. But, of course, the rest of the school had not forgotten. He sighed defeatedly and began ripping down the photos.

"On the bright side," a voice from behind him said, "at least you have a nice butt."

"So people keep telling me," Kenny grunted. "What do you want, Kyle?"

Kyle stepped forward, leaning against the locker next to Kenny's. "I wanted to say thanks. You know, for covering for me with Stan. I owe you big time."

"Yeah, no shit."

"Look, I'm sorry," Kyle said. "You know, about everything."

Kenny scratched ferociously with his thumbnail at a piece of scotch tape on his locker. "To be honest, Kyle, I don't really care about this shit right now," he replied, tearing down a picture. "I have bigger stuff going on."

Kyle raised his eyebrows in concern. "Is everything okay?"

Kenny closed his eyes, crumpling the photo in his hand. "Um. Yeah."

"Okay but you just said…"

"Do you think anyone's ratted me out about the streaking thing?" Kenny cut him off. He tore down another photo from his locker door and shoved it in his friend's face. "If you were a teacher would you know this was me?"

Kyle took the picture from Kenny's hands. "I mean, only if Principal Sharpe has seen you naked."

"Oh, great, I'm fucked then."

"You're hilarious, Ken," Kyle replied, searching Kenny's face nervously.

"The principal has never seen my ass, Kyle."

Kyle breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god."

Kenny shook his head. "Think this will blow over?" he asked, ripping his locker door open.

"At this school?" Kyle replied. He waved his hand dismissively. "Someone will do something crazier by the end of the week."

"So before my suspension is over?"

"You can't get suspended if you don't get caught."

"There were a lot of kids in that parking lot."

"But who's gonna tell? And what teacher is gonna believe that you, the quiet kid who wears a parka indoors until mid-April would run around naked outside in February?"

Kenny pulled up his hood and tugged on the drawstrings. "Yeah, that's true."

"Anyways, this could be any skinny white boy," Kyle said, waving the photo in the air.

"White people. Why do we all look so much alike?"

Kyle's smile softened. "So are you gonna tell me what's going on with you?"

Kenny set his jaw, turning his focus onto his open locker. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kyle studied Kenny's face with a look of deep concern. Then his eyes locked on something over Kenny's shoulder and he gave a slight nod. "Hey Craig," he said.

Kenny jumped, startled, and spun around to see Craig standing inches away.

"Jesus," he muttered. "You can't sneak up on people like that."

"Sorry," Craig replied. His eyes darted over to Kyle nervously before he said, "Um. Are you aware that there are pictures of your ass floating around the school?"

Kenny tore down one of the photos still hanging from his locker. "Yeah, you want one?" he asked, handing it over.

"I have one."

"I'm gonna be honest, Craig, I don't know what to make of that."

"I have one too," Kyle chimed in, holding up the photo that was still in his hand.

Craig furrowed his brow. " _I_ don't know what to make of that."

The warning bell rang, and the students filling the hallway began to disperse. Kyle pushed off the locker he was leaning against. "I have study hall," he told Kenny. "See you at lunch?"

Kenny nodded, turning back to his locker. He tried to focus on finding his biology book, but he could still feel Craig standing behind him.

"Tall people shouldn't hover," he said. "It's unsettling."

"Can we talk?" Craig asked.

Kenny rummaged through his locker. "We have biology," he replied.

"Ditch with me."

"It's your favorite subject."

"This is more important."

Kenny sighed, closing his locker. "You're not gonna give up on this, are you?"

"No."

He turned around, looking up at Craig. "Where do you want to go?"

* * *

When the late bell rang and the seat next to his was still empty, Kevin began to get nervous. He knew Craig liked to come across like he didn't care about anything, but he took school pretty seriously, and it wasn't like him to miss biology.

More importantly, Kevin usually copied his notes.

He glanced around the room, on the off chance that Craig had decided to sit in the back, but he was nowhere to be seen. The only other empty chair was catty corner from his own, next to Cartman.

"Cartman," Kevin whispered, leaning back.

"What?" Cartman snapped, in that instantly irritated tone of voice he always used when addressing Kevin.

"Have you seen Craig?"

Cartman scowled. "No. I don't keep track of Craig."

"Well what about Kenny?"

Cartman eyed the empty seat beside him, as if noticing it for the first time.

"I don't really keep track of him either."

"But he's here today, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

Kevin rubbed his temples, feeling the migraine that was a natural side effect of talking to Cartman coming on. "Well don't you think it's weird that they're both in school today but neither of them are in class?"

"No. I just figured Kenny was in trouble for the streaking thing."

"But that wouldn't explain why Craig is MIA."

"Kevin, I don't know how to make it clearer to you that I do not give one rat's ass where Craig is."

"Ok. Got it," Kevin replied, sitting back upright. "God, you are like, the world's biggest dick."

"Well you don't really have the best frame of reference for that, do you?" Cartman replied, reaching forward to wiggle his chubby pinky at Kevin. "You know, because you're Asian?"

* * *

"So I'm confused," Stan said, closing his English book. "Why do you have a picture of Kenny's ass?"

"Some idiot taped them all over his locker," Kyle replied.

"Yeah, that would be my boyfriend," Bebe interjected, twisting around in her seat to face them.

"Ha, classic," Clyde muttered to himself, resting his head back into his interlocked hands as if he couldn't be more pleased with himself.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Ok, so why do you still _have_ it."

"It was a gift, Stan," Kyle replied, slipping the photo into his binder. "Don't be jealous. I'm sure he'd give you one too if you ask nicely."

"You're an idiot," Stan replied. "And Kenny's an idiot for losing that stupid bet."

Kyle licked his lips, zipping his binder closed. "Yeah, Stan, I sort of have a confession to make."

"What?"

"Kenny didn't make that stupid bet with Cartman. I did."

"What? Why?"

Kyle scratched his head abashedly. "I guess I thought I knew you better than anyone."

Stan rolled his eyes. "You do. But you can't know everything about me. Some things are too personal even for you."

"Okay. You're right. I should have respected your privacy or whatever."

"You should have wanted me to be _happy_ , Kyle. You knew I wasn't."

Kyle groaned, burying his face in his hands. "That's what fucking Cartman said."

"For the record, Kyle, Wendy and I are _never_ getting back together."

"He's right. We're not," Wendy agreed, turning around in her seat. "You and Cartman made a bet on us? Seriously?"

Kyle shrugged. "I know. It was dumb."

"And frankly, it's a little creepy that you were _that_ invested in us as a couple," Stan added.

"Okay, shut up, you ass."

Stan chuckled, flipping through his text book. "Anyways, I should get this stupid English assignment done. Kenny's probably going to copy it during lunch."

* * *

"Are you trying to get back at me for Valentine's Day?"

Kenny shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at the sidewalk as they walked. "Craig, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about last night," Craig replied. "I came over. You fucked me and then immediately kicked me out afterwards?"

Kenny's throat tightened. "I mean, you're the one who said we weren't in a relationship. And I keep making the mistake of thinking we are. I don't want to blur the lines again, you know?"

"So you were trying to teach me a lesson."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Kenny shook his head, his ears burning as he turned and marched off the curb and onto the street. "Fucking asshole."

"Kenny, where are you going?"

"Back to school!"

"Kenny, wait!" He heard the crunching of snow as Craig ran after him, grabbing him by the shoulder. "If it wasn't about revenge then what?"

Kenny whipped around, Craig's hand falling awkwardly to his side. "That was about not _humiliating_ myself again."

Craig's eyes were wide with confusion. "Humiliating yourself?"

Kenny reached under his hood, pulling his hair in frustration. "No one has ever made me feel this insecure, Craig! I just want to forget these past two months didn't happen, because I want you so bad it scares me! And I keep fooling myself into believing that you want me too. But you just keep building me up and then tearing me down. I don't even get why, Craig. Because I only have one thing to offer, and you've already gotten it from me." He shook his head in disgust, his hands falling to his sides. "Honestly, I don't even know what you're still doing here. I've been torturing myself wondering why I wasn't good enough for you, and you're pissed that I didn't let you spend the night."

"Kenny." Craig grabbed his hand. "I do want you."

"Don't," Kenny snapped, jerking his hand back. "You're like a kid who doesn't want a toy until he breaks it. I'm done with the fucking games, Craig."

"I thought it was obvious how much I wanted you. I mean, I made you a sappy mix CD for fuck's sake."

Kenny threw up his hands. "Seriously?"

Craig sighed. "Shut up and listen, okay? I know. I know what I said. I just." He took a deep breath. "I was scared. You're too good to be true. Too good for me, at least."

Kenny snorted. "Please. Like you haven't heard what the whole school says about me."

Craig shrugged. "Well I don't care what they say, okay? Because to me, you were this beautiful, unobtainable straight guy who would never look twice at me. When I chose you for my lab partner, I never thought in a million years that any of this would happen. Ever since that first kiss, I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because I was the real experiment here. And eventually the experiment has to end, and you're just gonna crush me under your thumb like the fucking fruit flies."

Kenny wasn't sure what to say. "That's stupid," seemed insensitive. Finally he went with, "Well, I can't be totally straight, can I? Straight guys typically don't want boyfriends."

"Is that really all you have to say?"

Kenny shrugged.

"Look, I know I was a jerk," Craig said. "But I was just afraid you were gonna break my heart. And I thought it would soften the blow if I made you believe there was nothing to break. I don't like it when people know they have power over me. But I was so focused on keeping you from hurting me that it never occurred to me that I was even capable of hurting you. I'm sorry."

Kenny crossed his arms. "Can we just admit, finally, that I've been right this entire time? Can we finally admit that I am the smart one in this relationship?"

Craig just laughed. And more importantly, Kenny noted, he didn't flinch at the word "relationship."

"Will you just get over here already?"

Craig took a step forward, pulling Kenny into a kiss. And Kenny felt a warmth spreading from his chest into his limbs. And when they pulled away he felt so happy it scared him. The fear of being completely at Craig's mercy matched only by the desire to never leave his side.

"If were gonna keep this a secret, we have to stop meeting at school like this."

"I know," Craig replied, combing a hand through Kenny's hair. "You wanna come over after school?"

Kenny pursed his lips. "I guess. If I don't get any better offers."

"You're an ass."

"You love it."

"I'm leaving."

Craig flipped Kenny off as he walked back toward the school, and Kenny smiled to himself, because that was so _Craig_ and Craig was so _his_. Even if the only evidence of that was a cheesy mix CD and an ugly ceramic deer and a rapidly fading hickey on Craig's neck. And if Kenny noticed that hickey peeking out from under Craig's collar, well, he figured he'd earned the right to keep it to himself.


End file.
